Bewitched
by Havoc Creations
Summary: Love potions, hallucinations and slash ahoy! AU, slash
1. Chapter 1

Strong Bad flipped through the pristine pages of Strong Sad's collector's edition Dungeons and Dragons manual. Last he checked, his brother was out at one of his lame nerd meetings. Thank goodness, because he'd hate for someone to catch him reading one of these things.

But this game was based on real witchcraft and stuff, right? That's what all hype over it was about. They even made an 80's movie involving Tom Hanks based on how evil this stuff was, so it had to be true.

He flipped through it boredly. The descriptions sucked. Maybe this wasn't gonna be as productive as he'd hoped. "Levitation, leomund's tiny hut... what the crap, no love potions? Seriously, the people who play this game need that kind of thing more than anyone and they don't even have an entry for it."

He continued his flipping in peace for a few minutes.

"You know, if you're looking for a love potion, you coulda asked," Strong Sad suggested over his shoulder. "I hate when you break into my room..."

"Wuah!" Strong Bad tossed the book aside and hopped to his feet. "And I hate it when you sneak up on me when I'm breaking into your room. Jeez, you could at least knock."

"_...it's my room._"

"Yeah, well... so?" Strong Bad cleared his throat. "Anyway I totally wasn't looking for a love potion and even if I was I wouldn't ask you of all people. I'm outta here." He pushed past his brother, making sure to plant a foot on the apparently useless book on his way out.

"Darn. I was hoping to try it out," Strong Sad muttered. He picked up his book, nose wrinkled with disdain.

Strong Bad paused. "Try what out?"

"My love potion. Well, not _my_ love potion, but a love potion ... well, spell ... kind of a combo of both ... out..." He shrugged. "Oh well. Probably mumbo jumbo anyway."

"You have a love potion." Strong Bad raised an eyebrow at him . "Seriously?" He folded his arms thoughtfully. "...you know, if you need like... a test subject, I think I have a few... or one, in mind. Just to you know, see how much you got ripped off on that thing."

Strong Sad raised an eyebrow. "It's a set of instructions, really ... there's a ceremony, some chants ... you need some of the person's hair, and an article of clothing... very detailed stuff. It's very difficult to cast. But if you're really that desperate to get Marzipan to notice you... I probably... I could help."

Strong Bad considered it. On one hand... performing chants and ceremonies and collecting people's hair in order to steal Homestar's girlfriend could potentially be fun in an evil sorcerer, dark arts kind of way. On the other hand, it involved Strong Sad.

"I'm not desperate," Strong Bad huffed, unfolding his arms. "But I am bored. Fine, I'll help. But if this turns out to be a waste of my time, you're getting a swirlee you won't soon forget."

He winced. "I can't promise it'll work. I mean ... it should, it's very ancient. I found it on eBay."

"Great, so it has to be at least two weeks old," Strong Bad replied flatly. "Whatever, man. Let's get started. I have things to burn and sticks to hang out at."

Strong Sad gave a weak grin. "All right. First we need..."

It turned out that getting started was going to be an issue. The two of them spent upwards of two weeks stalking Marzipan, pulling strands of her hair from her couch, stealing her clothes from the line out back of her house, drawing prayer circles in the grass by her front steps. At week two, Strong Sad slumped down on the basement couch. "Okay. One last step and we're good. This should be it, and tonight's the night."

He pawed through his backpack and held up a dark green bottle. "This is the potion itself. We sprinkle a little on the collected items..." He motioned to them on the floor by his feet; a few scraps of paper with her handwriting on it, her lipstick, strands of hair, and bits of cloth from her clothing. "...and pour the rest into something. She needs to ingest it before the next full moon."

"The next full moon, eh? Hmm... maybe we can like, invite her over in some inconspicuous, seemingly benign way so that she'll never suspect we're up to something," Strong Bad pondered for a moment. Inviting Marzipan over alone might be a little too obvious, especially after all the stalking they'd been doing over the last few weeks. "I'm thinking party. Parties are the best cover for everything."

"Mom will _kill you_ if you try to throw a party here," Strong Sad frowned. "Remember last time when you got so drunk you threw up in her hamper thinking it was the toilet...?"

"Uh, no I don't remember. I was... drunk. But if Strong Mad's underwear were in there, I could see how I might think it was the toilet," Strong Bad muttered. "All right all right, no party. Maybe we can... I dunno, make her some melonade and bring it over. That's not suspicious. Much."

"Maybe _I_ can bring it over. She hates you," he pointed out. "She might think you poisoned it. Which we sort of did."

"We did not poison it, we _potioned_ it. Totally different." Strong Bad tapped his chin. "Okay. We'll do it your way. I'll hang back while you deliver the goods, and then I'll make my move to see if it worked. And it better work- two freakin' weeks, man! This stuff had better be epic-effective."

"She has to drink all of it. It'll take a few days," he pointed out. "But it should at least get her thinking about you ... which could lead to other things, I suppose."

"Yeah, like dumping lamebrain and getting with me, the clearly superior choice," Strong Bad snorted. "Well, what are you doing sitting there, fatty? Go make my melonade. This has already taken forever and a day. Those 'few more' need to get started pronto. I want to see results already."

Strong Sad sent him a glare, but did as he was instructed. No use arguing with Strong Bad, afterall; he was impatient. But still...

He sighed. At least he was getting to test out the spell. Potion. Ceremony. Whatever. It would be nice to know that the positive feedback he gave the seller was well-deserved.

He delivered the melonade before the night was over, much to the recipient's dismay.

"Oh ... melonade," Marzipan grinned, trying to sound chipper. "Thanks so much, Strong Sad. I'll get the container back to you as soon as I'm done."

"Oh, don't worry about it. You can keep the pitcher," Strong Sad replied. He wasn't sure how well love potions washed out of plastic pitchers, but figured it was worth the five bucks for a new one not to risk it. "Just... make sure you drink it all."

"Uh ... okay...?" she said, giving him a quizzical look. She closed the door and grimaced at the pitcher. "Ugh. I hate melonade."

"Melonade?" Homestar chirped hopefully, lifting his head from the couch. "You made melonade?"

"No, Strong Sad did," Marzipan sighed. "Oh well, I suppose I can always use the container." She glanced over at her boyfriend. "Do you want it? I'd hate to just dump it down the sink."

He grinned. "Heck yeah I do." He stood up and hopped over the couch like it was a hurdle. "You never make me melonade anymore."

"That's because you really don't need all that sugar," Marzipan pointed out. "It's bad for your teeth and can lead to diabetes. Not to mention it goes right through you anyway."

"...but it tastes good," Homestar giggled. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek while he took the pitcher out of her hand. "Thanks even though ... you didn't ... make it." He furrowed his brow. "Ah, whatever. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Marzipan smiled, chuckling. He was so easy to please, it was cute. "Drink that in the kitchen, though. I don't want you spilling on the carpet."

"Gaaahhh, fine," he muttered, wandering to the kitchen. Over the course of the night he managed to sneak a glass here and there until he drank it all. He frowned and shook the empty pitcher.

"...whups." He bit his nails and filled it halfway up with water before sticking it back into the fridge. There, now Marzipan won't know he drank it all. Foolproof. He tilted his head. Now if only the pitcher wasn't _see through_ she'd be totally fooled.

"Whatever," he snorted. He closed the fridge and bounced back into the living room. He nudged his half-awake girlfriend with his foot and smirked. "Come onnnn. You can't be asleep already. It's only like... it's barely dark out." Nevermind that it was pushing midnight. He nudged her again. "Come on."

He frowned. This was not working, but he knew what would. He giggled and sidled up beside her, smirking a bit before he kissed her neck. "Come on, you said tonight was gonna be fun."

Marzipan muttered and waved him off, sitting up. "Homestar, I'm tired..." she yawned a bit. "What time is it?"

He tapped his chin. "Time for bed," he giggled, ignoring her protests. He cuddled up against her and pouted. "Come on it's been like ... it's been a long time. Pleeeeease?"

She sighed. A long time for Homestar was more like a few days, but he'd been behaving himself lately. "Maybe if you brush your teeth- your breath smells like melonade."

He grinned weakly. "Heh ... y-yeah, okay gonna go ... do that. Don't like ... change your mind or anything," he ordered, sternly. Well, as sternly as Homestar could. It came out more like a two year old giving orders than an actual demand.

"I won't," Marzipan promised, watching him rush off with an amused glance over her shoulder.

Homestar brushed his teeth as he was instructed, but stopped to do some minor clean-up duty on his hair. He mussed it up and combed it with his fingers. He gave his reflection a satisfied smirk and a cheesy thumbs up. "_You_ are going to get laid tonight, you know that?"

He paused.

"Heck yeah, I know that. Of course I freakin' am, I'm Homestar." He sighed, amused. "Duh. Goes without saying."

He popped into the living room, but it appeared that Marzipan had relocated to the bedroom. He stopped by her door, glancing up at his hair and frowning before he tore off his hat and shirt. Whatever. You didn't need good hair all the time.

Marzipan was sitting on the bed in a purple nightgown. She giggled when Homestar showed up shirtless. "C'mere, ya goofball." She patted the bed beside her.

Like he needed the invite. Homestar jumped on the bed, landing on his knees. "This is totally the best Tuesday ever."

"Mmhm." She wrapped her arms around his neck with a smile and kissed him. "Much better."

He giggled and kissed her back, hands finding their way to the edge of the very pretty but _incredibly_ hindering nightgown. He pulled it up over her head and let out a soft, shuddering moan when her hands grazed his hips.

"Mmm, Strong Bad," he murmured, lips meeting hers again. He seemed oblivious to the error.

Marzipan was not quite so oblivious. She pushed him away a bit, narrowing her eyes at him. "-what?"

"...what do you mean _what?_ What's wrong?" He furrowed his brow, confused.

"You just said 'Strong Bad'," Marzipan replied flatly.

He blinked at her. "...what? No I didn't."

"I'm sure you did," she said, annoyed. "Homestar, if you're going to make this weird then tonight is off."

"I swear I didn't! Why would I call out _Strong Bad's_ name? He's ..." He winced, face going red. _Kinda hot._

He shook his head. _What? No. That's not right._

"He's a guy. He's ... he's STRONG BAD. No. You musta heard wrong," he insisted, grabbing her hand. He grinned weakly making an 'x' over his heart. "I promise, no weird stuff."

Marzipan frowned. "...all right." She kissed him again, though the mood had been a little put off by that interruption.

Homestar kissed her back and for a while things went according to plan. In fact it was all fine until they were done. He panted and pulled the sheets over them, wrapping his arms around her.

He let out a sigh and nuzzled into her neck. "Oh god, Strong Bad, that was amazing." He blinked. Wait. That didn't sound right. Rewind, repeat. Did he just say...?

"Strong Bad?" Marzipan blinked and then glared at him, shoving him away. "All right, that's it- out."

He winced. "That's not what ... I mean, you kno..." He gave her a puppy dog pout, but it was apparently too late for that tactic. He groaned and grabbed his pants. Guess that ruled out wake-up sex.

He got dressed and let himself out, frowning. Strong Bad? Of all the names to gravitate towards ... _Strong Bad?_

He shuddered. He was cool and everything, but that just wasn't the way Homestar swung. His brain seemed to disagree. He poked the side of his head. "Listen, head, if you ever wanna get sex again, you better quit that."

A few more jabs. "Seriously. Not cool."

Try as he might to sway it, his brain just was not into cooperating. What was left of the night passed uneasily for him once he returned to his own bed. It was filled with strange, vague dreams that definitely did not involve Marzipan. And it only got worse when he woke up- or at least, thought he woke up sometime the next day. Because he did not wake up alone.

Yes, clearly Homestar's imagination had gone completely crazy, because the hand sporting a red, fingerless glove that was resting on his chest was very familiar.

Homestar scrunched his eyes shut, but when he dared to open one again the hand was still there. "GAH!"

He squirmed away, pulling the sheet up to make himself more decent. "STRONG BAD GET OUT OF MY BED. AND MY HEAD."

The Strong Bad figment propped himself up and pulled at Homestar's sheets, snickering. "Oh come on, man, you want me here. I'm totally the most interesting thing in your head anyway. Maybe even the only thing."

Homestar reddened unintentionally. "That's not true! I think about plenty of ... not-you..thi... GET OUT." He threw a pillow at his head.

The hallucination knocked it aside and smirked. "You wanna play rough, huh?" He sneered, fighting the twisted sheets until he had Homestar pinned. He leaned close and grinned. "I'm not goin' anywhere." With that, he leaned in and kissed him.

And then Homestar woke up. Again.

He grabbed his pillow, bit into it and shrieked. What the crap was going on?

First the whole ... calling out Strong Bad's name during his time with Marzipan, and now _this_. He let out a whimper and glanced at the clock. Pushing 6 am. Go back to bed or wake up for the day?

He was tired, but on the other hand ... he winced. Sex dreams about Strong Bad. No. There so did not need to be a part two. He swung his legs over the bed and sighed. "It's gonna be a long day," he muttered, slipping on his bunny slippers.

And it was. He almost fell asleep three or four times at work. Staring at a computer was boring, boring, boring work. He sighed and closed his eyes again.

"Hey, moron-" Someone flicked the back of his head, interrupting his brief lapse into exhausted unconsciousness. Actually, flicked was too mild of a term. It was more of a hard 'thwack.' "I asked you a question."

Strong Bad was leaning against the edge of his cubicle just, just within thwacking distance thanks to the ruler he was holding.

"Hrrm?" Homestar glanced over his shoulder, blanching. He practically jumped out of his chair, backing into his desk. He went from pale to bright red in record time. "Wh-what, what is it, what. I'm busy. What."

Strong Bad wrote it off as his neighbor's usual weirdness for now and repeated his previous inquiry. "I said how's your girlfriend doing. Did she dump you again yet?" He knew that potion was supposed to take a couple of days, but he couldn't resist his curiosity.

He went impossibly redder. "Of course sh-she didn't but that's not ...work ... appropriate conv..." _Stop staring at his freaking hips already, idiot_. He shook his head and averted his eyes. "...d...don't you have work to do?"

Strong Bad raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh... no." He snorted. "I'm on break. Jeez, who slipped the sanka into your OJ today, dude." Of course he'd been 'on break' most of the morning, but that was beside the point.

He still refused to look at him. "W-well, I'm not, so I gotta get back to work. So if you could just..." He shooed him with one hand.

Strong Bad shook his head, puzzled. Heck, if Homestar wanted to avoid him, he wasn't going to argue.

He retreated to his own cubicle so as to continue his all-important slacking. Eventually he did get around to finishing the data entries he'd been assigned before lunch.

Homestar slumped at his desk, twitchy and jittery. He slammed his head against the keyboard. This was turning out to be the worst Wednesday ever.

He frowned and tried to focus on work. _At least I'm awake now_, he thought bitterly. He glared at his screen. _Insanely turned on, but awake._

Hopefully Marzipan would forgive him soon for the atrocious name mix-up and he wouldn't have to spend the next few days scrounging around his attic for his rarely used girly mags. They lived in hiding thanks to Marzipan's complete and utter disgust with the idea. He tried explaining to her that it was just fantasy, but that earned him a slap in the face.

He sighed. Fantasy. It was so much easier as a teenager, when just the _thought_ of a half naked girl was enough to get off to. Since introducing actual sex into his life, things were much more enjoyable but also more complicated.

He shook his head. Work was not the best time to be thinking about porn.

The rest of the work day passed fairly uneventfully for everyone. Strong Bad enjoyed a blissfully uninterrupted afternoon devoid of annoying idiots, and spent nearly all of that extra time imagining how he would ask Marzipan out once she got around to dumping her previous boyfriend. He hoped Homestar's weird behavior was a sign that all was progressing according to plan. He _almost_ felt bad for the guy. Having one's girlfriend stolen out from under you had to suck.

The pity was fleeting. Strong Bad swaggered up to his brother once his shift was over to boast about his observations. "I think that potion is totally working already. Homestar's been flipping out all day and I'm pretty sure he and Marzi got in a fight or something. He looks like he hasn't slept at all."

Strong Sad glanced up from his screen, having had his computer encounter an error when he tried to log out. Or log off. He wasn't sure which one he should be doing. "He seemed okay to me, just a little tired."

"Are you kidding? He was practically jumping out of his skin every time I- oh hey, here. Check this out." He yanked the power cord out of the back of the computer to solve Strong Sad's error issue and motioned for him to pay attention. He called out to Homestar as he passed by the cubicle. "Hey, Homestar! Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Strong Sad frowned at his computer briefly, before glancing up at Homestar. Homestar, who did in fact look ready to jump out of his skin.

He winced and kept his eyes straight ahead, face turning noticeably red. "G-gotta get these files to Pom Pom by 5."

Strong Bad flashed a triumphant smirk at his brother before clearing his throat. "Ah, yeah you got like five minutes and his office is right there. I think you'll make it. Didn't see you at lunch today, you fall asleep at your computer again or what?"

Homestar's face flushed some more and he gripped onto the folders he was carrying. "I really gotta go," he blurted, rushing off.

Strong Sad raised an eyebrow. "That was weird."

"Yeah, I know." Strong Bad snorted. "Seriously, you didn't notice? He's been like that all friggen day." He folded his arms over his chest. "Wish they'd break up already. Maybe you're right though, it probably needs another day to finish working."

"Yeah," Strong Sad muttered, staring off in the direction Homestar ran. He turned back to his brother. "Yeah, I mean, it takes a while to drink a whole gallon of melonade." He got up from his desk. "Come on, you don't wanna miss the bus again, do you?"

"Ugh, no. I hate walking," Strong Bad agreed, heading out. "Do you think she has my number? Just in case, I mean... I don't remember if it's unlisted or not."

Strong Sad rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she has your number. She calls me all the time."

"Why would she call you?" Strong Bad muttered. Why anyone would call Strong Sad was beyond him, come to think of it. Unless they maybe needed some advice on being a nerd. "Wait, you mean on purpose or by accident?"

"On purpose. We _happen_ to be part of the same poetry club, you know," Strong Sad remarked, visibly offended.

"Oh right, that... thing." Strong Bad shrugged it off. "Whatever. Once she's head over heels in love with me she won't have time for any of that lame crap."

He sighed. "It's not going to change her personality, you know."

"I didn't say it would. It's just gonna be kind of hard to keep a regular schedule for that stuff when we'll be busy... going on vacations to Paris and makin' out in jaccuzzis." He smirked and pointed to himself. "I will totally be her poetic inspiration from now on. She won't even need a club."

He wrinkled his nose. Poetry about Strong Bad. "I think if you were her inspiration, we'd kick her out of the club."

"All the more time for us to- _hey_," Strong Bad growled and punched his brother in the shoulder.

Strong Sad winced and rubbed it, pulling away. "Don't get your hopes too high. 'Be careful what you wish for' and all that stuff... it might not be as great as you think it's gonna be."

"Strong Sad, this is why nobody likes you, man. You always gotta point out how awful everything might be, or could be. It's really, really annoying. You're the worlds biggest friggen wet blanket. I will take any form of that potion working over nothing. Even if it just ends up being her answering my phone calls and not slamming the door in my face, that is all the head start I need. There is nothing not-great about that." The hydraulic brakes of their bus screeched as it pulled up to the bus stop, bringing the conversation to an effective halt for now.

Strong Sad glanced at his brother and sighed. "I'm just saying that being realistic for once wouldn't kill you," he muttered, following him onto the bus.

-

"Let's be realistic, here, Homestar..." Pom Pom sighed, dropping the folders onto his desk that the aforementioned employee had come rushing into his office with moments ago. "It's clear to me that you didn't put your usual effort into these monthly reports. There's... major spelling errors, omissions, and it looks like you didn't even finish typing several sentences. I can't send this out."

Homestar tapped his fingers together. "Y-yeah, I know. It's crap. I'm really sorry, Pom Pom, I've been..." He glanced out the window at the bus stop, where Strong Bad had been just a moment ago. He blushed and looked away. "I've been in a weird mood all day. I don't know. I promise I'll come in early Friday and fix it up."

"I'm not that worried about the reports. I can get somebody else to do them if you think you need some time off..." He folded his hands on the desk and regarded Homestar, concerned at his unusually poor performance. He got this kind of thing from Strong Bad a lot- usually accompanied by every excuse in the book, but Homestar was generally reliable. "Everything okay?"

He grinned weakly. "Everything's fine. I think. I'm just stressed. But I can do it." He frowned. "It wouldn't be fair to dump them on someone else. That's my job. I can do it, I promise. I just need a few more days."

"From the look of it you could use some sleep, too," Pom Pom noted. "I'll tell you what, you go home and get a nap, okay? And if you need some time to wind down later tonight after that nap, come out to the bowling alley. We're having kind of a company thing out there... might help you get your mind off whatever's bothering you. Plus I could really use you on my team."

"Sounds fun," Homestar sighed. "It'd be nice to get my mind off some things. I'll call you later, Pom Pom."

He gave him a wave and turned to leave. Right. Some sleep. Sleep is good.

Sleep was good _in theory_. Homestar wasn't used to sleeping during the day, so actually getting to sleep was a chore. He had to rearrange his blinds to dim the light and pull a pillow over his head just to block the everyday sounds of the neighborhood. It always seemed that the more tired one was, the harder it was to sleep.

But sleep came soon enough. He groaned and rolled over, absently pulling the pillow from over his head.

"Welcome back," a familiar voice purred as its owner started playing with his hair.

Homestar's eyes snapped open. _You've gotta be kidding me_. He shut them as tightly as he could and pulled the pillow back over his head. "No."

"Yes," the not-Strong Bad chuckled. He yanked the pillow away and tossed it in the corner.

He sat up and glared at him. "NOT yes," he hissed, jabbing him in the chest. "Very not yes."

"Says the guy who couldn't keep his eyes off me all day," the imposter mused. "Jeez, when are you gonna ask me out already? You've fantasized about me enough, haven't you?"

"If I asked the real you out, he'd break my nose," Homestar pointed, annoyed. "...not that I want to. Look, I'm trying to sleep and you're making it extremely hard to sleep. So either turn into Marzipan or my super hot English teacher from sixth grade or go home." He pointed to the door ... or rather, where the door would have been. It appeared to be missing. "...huh?"

"Through the wall, eh," the Strong Bad-that-wasn't raised an eyebrow at him. "I told you, I'm not goin' anywhere. So as long as we're stuck here, and as long as... you're clearly more interested in me than any hot English teachers or old girlfriends... " he snickered and leaned against him, grazing his fingers across his chest. "We might as well make the best of it."

He smacked his hand away, blushing furiously. "No means no," he huffed, grabbing his other pillow. He stomped over to the corner and sat down, glaring at the not-Strong Bad from his new spot on the floor. "This is weird, distracting, nauseating and just ... you're ruining my life, weird Strong Bad fantasy thing. Go away." He made a shooing motion with his hand. Worked on the real one, anyway.

It didn't seem as effective on this one, unfortunately. "Nauseating?" He scoffed. "Are you kidding? I am totally hot. As an official figment of your imagination, I've seen how you look at me. And I'm not the one ruining your life, man. You are for trying to ignore how you feel about me." He slipped out of bed to join Homestar on the floor. He then folded his arms over his chest and flashed him a mischeivous grin. "Yanno, for the record? It's not cheating on your girlfriend, either, if you're making out with me in your imagination. Just sayin'."

Homestar wretched. "Not interested. For your information, I haven't had a sex dream about anyone _but_ Marzi since I started dating her. Clearly, it's true love. I'm not about to break that streak now."

Strong Bad laughed. "Okay first of all, three words for you: hot English teacher. You might have been drunk, but that totally counts. Second of all, that's not true love, dude... that's more like a lack of experience."

"...that wasn't a sex dream, that was ... a rerun," Homestar insisted stubbornly. "And it _is_ true love. You're just trying to screw with my head."

"I'd rather screw with something else if you know what I mean," he replied suggestively. "Besides, If she was your true love, you wouldn't have said my name while you two were getting it on."

Homestar reddened and scooched away. "Th-there's a good reason for that. I just haven't thought of it yet."

"Darn right there's a good reason," Strong Bad grinned. "Deep down you know I'm way more exciting than she could ever be." He scooted closer to him again. "Quit runnin' away and I'll show you what I'm talking about."

"N-no means no," Homestar laughed nervously, backing up some more. He hit the wall, but didn't seem phased by it. "You're a figment of _my_ imagination, right? You should... you should listen to me."

"I'm controlled by your subconscious, buddy," Strong Bad replied slyly. "You don't really have a say." He smirked and grabbed his chin, kissing him, only this time it wasn't followed by an immediate wakeup. No, it was followed through in entirety. Once Strong Bad broke it he shrugged and went over to sit on the bed. "All right, suit yourself. This is going to be a really long, boring dream."

Homestar pulled his pillow over his head and whimpered. Long and boring he could handle. That would be a nice change of pace. He clenched the pillow tighter and groaned.

Strong Bad stretched out on the bed, examining his fingers boredly. For a brief minute or two it actually seemed like the dream might get by with being long and boring... and not quite so gay. Then he rolled over and propped his head up on his elbows, grinning at Homestar. "You know, I have a great ass. Wouldn't you agree?" He snickered.

Homestar went red and slammed his head against the wall with a loud thud. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what?" Strong Bad asked, feigning innocence. "It was totally a valid question."

"Fine. Then I disagree."

"I see." He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"...because I'm not gay," he snorted. "Whaddya mean 'how come'? Duh."

"Could've fooled me," Strong Bad replied. "You know, the first sign that you're gay is that you get REALLY defensive about people mentioning it. And that you dream about making out with other guys."

"No, see, I'm dreaming about guys _trying_ to make out with me," he snapped. "_I'm_ not making out with any dudes. That's gross."

"Oh, I'm not trying. If I were trying, you'd know," Strong Bad grinned. "Besides, how do you know it's gross when you've never given it a chance? Admit it, man... the kissing was fun."

He wretched over-dramatically. "I don't think so."

"Denial," Strong Bad sighed, rolling his eyes. "Man, you're dense. Clearly this is gonna be harder than I thought." He slid off the bed and stood up, hands on his hips. "Up." He motioned for Homestar to stand.

"What? No. I don't take orders from you you're not even real." He glared at the wall again and shooed him. "Get lost."

Strong Bad waved a hand in the air. Then he pulled at a nonexistent yet... apparently very effective leash, yanking Homestar to his feet. He narrowed his eyes up at him, smirk widening. "How about this... you make out with me, just to prove how gross it is and that you're not gay... and maybe I'll leave you alone."

Homestar blinked and pulled at his invisible collar. "LET. GO."

Strong Bad chuckled. "Nah, I don't think so," he mused, pulling him a bit closer.

Homestar tugged back, but dream Strong Bad had a better grip than regular one. "This is so not cool. Why won't you just go away and leave me alone?" Another tug.

"You tell me, I'm in your head."

He blinked at that. Why _was_ he there, anyway?

"I have no idea, but it's awful and needs to stop," he growled.

"Then stop me," Strong Bad replied boredly.

"_I've been trying._"

Strong Bad snorted. "Clearly you haven't tried everything yet."

"Excuse me for not knowing how to turn off my brain," he huffed.

"Well sittin' in a corner telling me to go away is totally not helping." Strong Bad pulled him down to his level and leaned close, pausing with his lips just behind his ear. "I think we both know that the state of 'off' is way overrated, anyway." He kissed him behind the ear and smirked.

Homestar twitched and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him at arms' length. "No. Very no. Absolutely no. Off is fine, off is _great_, off saves electricity so yes. Off. Off is good."

"Off is so friggen boring," Strong Bad frowned. "Come on, man." He grabbed Homestar's arms and flung him onto the bed.

Homestar glared at him and quietly hoped that his alarm clock would be going off soon. Very soon. Now would be nice.

That didn't seem to be the case just yet. Homestar growled and got up, but the same invisible rope that was lassoed around his neck found its way around his wrist and the bed post beside it. He pulled at it, confused. "What the crap...?"

Strong Bad climbed onto the bed. "Just having a little fun," he said, straddling Homestar as he had in the previous dream. "Okay, here's how it's goin'... I'll be the police officer and you're the convict." He grinned and held up a police badge that had appeared out of thin air. "Time for a strip search," he chuckled. A police siren sounded in the distance...

And then Homestar woke up. The siren, as it turned out, was just his alarm clock going off.

He looked over at his alarm clock, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank god," he muttered, slamming a hand down on it. He had the world's most annoying alarm clock, but today it was a welcome noise.

Homestar slapped a hand to his face. What the hell was going on? These dreams were getting worse and worse. He rolled over, annoyed. And they appeared to be turning him on. He wretched, but being horny was being horny- nothing he could do about that.

Well, not _much_ anyway. He got up out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. Had to get a shower if he was going out tonight, anyway. Maybe he'd get drunk. Stupidly drunk, _pass out drunk_. It wasn't Homestar's usual style, but passing out meant no dreams which would be a welcome change. The hangover would be worth it.

An hour later, he was clean, working on his second beer and bowling a pretty good game. "Thanks for twisting my arm, dude," he grinned, nudging Pom Pom with his foot. "I haven't been bowling in forever."

"No problem. I know how much a little competition helps you unwind," Pom Pom replied. "You look a little better already- oh, hang on, it's my turn again." He got up and headed over to the ball return.

When he came back there was another "X" flashing on the screen. That made four strikes in a row.

Homestar smirked. "Only four?" he mused, getting up. He grabbed his candy red ball from the machine. "You're losing your touch, man. Betcha I can make five in a row."

"Oh really," Pom Pom grinned. "All right, I'll bet you five bucks for five in a row, take it or leave it."

"Taking it, and your five bucks in about ten seconds," he snorted. "I'm already at four, man. I'm on a roll."

He smirked and got ready to win his bet before familiar laughter hit his ears. He whipped around, accidentally throwing his ball in the process. "Stro..." Immediately his face went hot and he turned back around just in time to watch his ball finish its slow roll in the gutter. Why was he here? Who invited Strong Bad? He hated company events like this, didn't he? Homestar tensed up nervously. And why the _hell_ was he suddenly turned on like crazy again?

Pom Pom frowned, puzzled. Homestar never lost a bet. His attention was pulled away for the moment to follow the source of the commotion at the other end of the alley.

Strong Bad had tied the shoelaces of one of his teammates- Strong Sad, to be precise- around the leg of one of the benches. His other teammates weren't nearly as amused as he was, but Strong Bad didn't seem to care.

"You are such a klutz," Strong Bad said, laughter finally fading. "Ah man..."

"Strong Bad," Pom Pom scolded sternly, leaving his lane and his flustered teammate to address the problem.

"Uh oh," Strong Bad muttered.

"I invited you here to build team work in the office," Pom Pom huffed, bending down to untie Strong Sad's laces. He pulled him, still glaring at Strong Bad. "You really need to grow up and act your age. This isn't gradeschool. You're just lucky none of the higher ups are here to catch you fooling around like a 12 year old."

"Uh huh. Won't happen again," Strong Bad replied unenthusiastically.

"It better not," Pom Pom stated.

Strong Bad glared at the floor once Pom Pom had gone, then glanced briefly over his shoulder at his team's scoreboard. Everyone else's numbers were in the triple digits. Just not... his. "Screw this stupid, boring game, I'm getting food," he huffed, heading off for the bar. He'd had onion rings on his mind for a while now, anyway.

Strong Sad watch him go, eyes also flicking up to the scoreboards. Next to H*R were a few strikes, some spares and ... nothing. Two total misses. He blinked at Homestar, who was twitching and jittery, just like that afternoon. Odd. He seemed fine all night. He shook his head and got back to bowling, the only sport he was halfway decent at.

Pom Pom also seemed to notice Homestar's decline in accuracy. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked, interrupting Homestar as he got up for his turn.

He flinched and laughed nervously, nearly dropping his ball. "Yep just fine, peachy-keen, yes. Fine. Yes." He took a deep breath. "Fine."

Pom Pom rolled his eyes. "If y-"

"Hey, bossman," Strong Bad interrupted, having stopped by their lane on the way back from the bar, basket of onion rings in hand. "I was wondering... do we get Martin Luther King Day off? I'm trying to plan a vacation and I don't remember off the top of my head which dead guy days count as holidays."

"No, we don't," Pom Pom responded irritably. "If you really need off, you can always switch your shifts. Homestar, you usually have off Mondays, right?"

Homestar flinched again and nodded his head, unwilling to say anything. He swallowed the lump in his throat nervously. "Y-yuh huh."

"Great. Do that then. Homestar'll work for me that Monday. Thanks, man," Strong Bad started to walk away, but Pom Pom cleared his throat.

"What shift will you be working for him?"

"Eh?" Strong Bad blinked.

"If you're switching shifts, what day will you be working for him?" Pom Pom clarified.

"Um, none...?" Strong Bad flinched at Pom Pom's expression. "Er, I mean whatever, I guess."

"Homestar, what day do you want off?" Pom Pom asked.

He snapped back into the conversation, glancing between the both of them. "...huh? Off for wh-what?"

Strong Bad groaned and slapped his forehead. "It's no use talking to him, he's been spacing out all day. Just pick a friggen day of the week."

Pom Pom nudged Homestar. "Pick a day."

Homestar tensed up. "It's okay, I'll just work it, I wanna work it for him," he blurted out, fading into a half giggle. "I-it's fine."

"There, ya see? This was all a waste of time, he wants to do it," Strong Bad shrugged. "Thanks, dork." He flashed Homestar a thumbs up and then proceeded to eat more onion rings.

Pom Pom gave his friend an odd look. "You could... really use the day off, I think, Homestar..."

"Quit trying to change his mind!" Strong Bad protested.

"It's fine," Homestar insisted, stammering. "I swear." _Make him leave, already, this is insane._

Pom Pom held his hands up in defeat. "All right, all right. I'm just trying to make sure this ends up fair." He shot a disapproving glance at Strong Bad. "Have it your way."

"We done arguing? Good. Bye." Strong Bad turned to leave... rather quickly. Homestar kept looking at him weirdly and it was seriously creeping him out. Making him jump out of his skin was kind of funny for a few hours, but now it was getting just... odd. Even for Homestar.

Homestar didn't relax after his hasty retreat. He stared after him. _Holy crap, he does have a nice a..._

He yelped and dropped his bowling ball, shaking his head furiously to rid himself of the thought. No no no. Absolutely no. That was a major no. "AUGH."

Pom Pom rubbed his temple and glanced up at his teammate. "You know what, let's take a break." Mostly he just couldn't stand seeing his friend in such a condition. It was almost painful to watch him fumbling with the ball, and he was more than a little afraid he'd hurt himself or an innocent bystander, considering how jumpy he was.

"Good idea," Homestar muttered, shoulders slumping. "...h-hey, Pom Pom? Can I tell you something? And you'll promise you won't tell anyone? Ever? Take it to your grave?"

Pom Pom blinked. "Of course. You know me better than to have to ask, man."

Homestar tapped his fingers together. "I kinda ha... well, the reason I've been acting so..." He glanced over his shoulder nervously and brought his voice to a low whisper. "I kinda had a uh ... a ... um. S-sex dream about Str...st...strong... Bad."

"...oh." Pom Pom rubbed the back of his neck. Well, that certainly explained a few things. "Wow... I didn't know you were into that. I guess I can kind of see it, but... really? What about your girlfriend?"

"...into that...?" Homestar repeated, going red. "WHAT? I'm not! It's awful and I want to stop it! I'm going insa-" He blinked. "..._what do you mean you can kind of see it._"

"You do follow Strong Bad around a lot," Pom Pom explained calmly. "Plus the tight pants and... just trust me, you give off some of that vibe. Marzipan threw me, though. I was so sure... hmm. I guess that shows what I know."

Homestar's jaw dropped and he twitched. "...h..gjk... I'M NOT GAY. What the hell, man! You've known me since we were six! If I was gay you'd know by now," he snapped, frustrated. He could almost hear that smug dream Strong Bad mocking him already. "That is so not cool."

Pom Pom folded his arms. "Well I don't know, I thought that was what you were getting at. Are you bi, then? I'm really confused right now, so bear with me here."

Homestar snorted, irritated. "You are totally the worst best friend _ever_. I want a way to STOP the dreams. I'm not coming out of the freakin' closet, man."

"Ahh, okay." Pom Pom sighed and shook his head. "I'm not so sure how to help you, there. Most nightmares are caused by some kind of inner turmoil, from what I remember from my psychology classes. If you want to get rid of them, you have to face the fear or anxiety behind it. That may or... may not apply to sex dreams. I'll let you figure out whether it's a nightmare or a fantasy, because I'd rather not know the details." He cleared his throat. "But you know, they are kind of a natural thing. It sounds to me like you just have a serious crush on Strong Bad."

Homestar twitched, unable to find words for a moment. Crush? On _Strong Bad?_ He glanced over his shoulder at the supposed love interest in question- he was tormenting his little brother again.

"...WHAT." He shook his head, blinking a few times. He heard him right, hadn't he? "...WHAT? No. That is not helping _at all_."

Pom Pom shrugged. "You're freaking out over him for some reason. That's the only idea I could come up with from what you've told me and what I've seen."

"If you had a sex dream about Strong Bad you'd freak out too," Homestar huffed, looking away. "I'm outta here, man. Bowling was fun but I can't ... be here if he's here. Sorry. I'll catch you later."

"...all right. See you tomorrow," Pom Pom replied, watching him walk away. He did not envy the guy. One could only hope he'd sort things out soon. "Wait- Homestar! Don't forget to turn in your shoes, buddy," he called after him.

Homestar blinked. Oh. Right. Bowling shoes. He glanced down at them.

He sighed and leaned against the counter, untying his shoes absently. He huffed. Crush on Strong Bad _indeed._ That was absurd. He'd known the guy for almost sixteen years, after all. Why have supposedly-romantic feelings for him now?

He closed his eyes and growled. Romantic? Probably not. But the past 24 hours have been some of the most frustrating sexually he'd ever had. Even high school he could wake up without being too turned on to even think straight. Not that he had been thinking _straight _all day. Everything Strong Bad did or said seemed to get to him. Definitely annoying.

He sighed and traded in his shoes for his old pair of Freshley's, narrowly escaping having to pass by Strong Bad on his way out. Thank _god_. He wasn't sure he'd survive. His heart was still going a mile a minute from last time.

As he walked home, he mulled over Pom Pom's suggestion. A crush on Strong Bad did seem the ... logical reasoning for all of this, didn't it? But then again, even his worst crushes didn't involve sexually explicit dreams followed by _super pushy _ones. He'd never been told by a dream crush to hurry up and ask someone out, either. Definitely weird, and very ... sudden.

He sighed reaching his house. Maybe he was just horny and for some reason his brain just ... picked Strong Bad. It wasn't like the dreams weren't _hot_. They were hot, sort of. At the time, but not so much in retrospect. He crashed down on his couch and flipped on the television, staring at it boredly.

He'd had _weirder_ sex dreams, but never involving ... a guy before. He sighed. Pom Pom said it was natural. Maybe everyone has crazy sex dreams about their coworkers, and he was just unlucky enough to remember them. He yawned and laid down on the couch. Thursday tomorrow? Off tomorrow. He shut his eyes and rolled over, turning the volume down on an old Brady Bunch rerun. "Night, Bradys."

This time, the evening seemed to pass dreamlessly. No interruptions, not even a sign of that weird imaginary tormentor of his. He woke up the following day to a warm beam of sunlight on his face and the sound of someone knocking persistently on his front door.

Homestar blinked, sitting up. "Augh, it's too early for this crap," he muttered, wiping his eyes. He yawned and stretched in an attempt to look more awake. He paused to check himself out in the mirror by his door, mussed his hair into a halfway acceptable style and opened the door.

Strong Bad stood on his front step, hand raised in mid-knock. He blinked up at Homestar and waved. "Sup. I lost my key again."

He reddened unintentionally and looked away. "Y-you keep the spare key to your house under that stupid rock." Homestar would know, considering he used it regularly. "I put it back last time, I swear."

"My house? Dude, I haven't lived there for like two years. I meant our key." Strong Bad snorted and let himself in.

Homestar blinked and watched him enter his house. He growled. "Our key?" he repeated. "There is no OUR KEY. There's MY key and the spare Marzi has. Get out of my house." He paused. Heh. Sounded like Strong Bad for a minute there.

"What?" Strong Bad set the bag he'd been carrying on a nearby chair and raised an eyebrow at him. "Who the crap is Marzi, and why are you giving out spare keys?" He demanded. "Homestar- I swear, if I find out someone walked off with the lappy because you're copying keys for half the town, you'll be sleeping out on the friggen deck until the end of time."

"...Marzipan. My girlfriend. Who totally should have a key to my house because it's one step closer to m...moving in..." He looked around 'his' house. The layout seemed familiar, but some of the colors were off. There were also portraits on his wall he didn't quite remember taking. "...with me."

"Girlfriend, huh..." Strong Bad sighed. "You had another one of those dreams again, didn't you." He folded his arms over his chest and regarded Homestar with concern. "You don't have a girlfriend. You've got me, man. For almost two years now... unless you're cheating on me with this 'Marzipan.' In which case, I might have to throw you out and burn all of your stuff. Just so you know."

"You know what, I am," Homestar smirked, finally realizing that this was a dream. He walked past him, heading for the door. "I am cheating on you. Guess I'll be on my way."

The door disappeared just as he reached for the handle.

"Ah, come on. Why'd you have to ruin it? You used up a lot of imagination on this one," Strong Bad pouted. Of course, it wasn't the real Strong Bad- it was whatever horrible incarnation of him had been invading Homestar's dreams the last few nights.

He pulled his hand back, annoyed. "Okay, anxiety-induced Strong Bad thing. _What_ do I have to do to get you to leave me alone," Homestar demanded, turning around to glare at him. "I'd really like to get on with my life."

"You won't like it," he replied casually. "You really won't like it. Are you sure you wanna know? I mean, I don't mind playing games in here... we could have an awful lot of fun together."

Homestar raised an eyebrow. "I'm not interested in any kind of 'fun' with you. What is it?"

He smirked. "Kiss me."

"I did. _Twice_. But here you are," he pointed out.

"Not THIS me, you idiot," the dream Strong Bad snorted. "I mean the real one."

"...what?" He went pale. "You've gotta be kidding. Strong Bad would end my life."

"Yeah, probably, if you just grab me out of the blue and plant one on me. You're gonna have to approach it with a little more tact than that if you want to get out of this in decent health," Strong Bad rolled his eyes.

"I want a plan B. That's not gonna happen," he huffed. "There's no way I'm even trying that."

"There isn't a plan B, dorkwad," Strong Bad said smugly. "Plan B is me being here, in your head."

"...pl...plan C?"

"You're lucky you even have a 'B' and an 'A', don't push it," Strong Bad snorted. "Look I don't make the rules, that's just how it is."

"Augh," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "I just want my life back! I can't have it with you up here messing with my libido and I can't have it out there trying to make the moves on the real you. He doesn't even like sitting next to me on the bus, what makes you think he'll want to make out with me? What makes you think I even _want_ that?" He wrinkled his nose.

The dream Strong Bad shrugged. "Hey, I only know what you know, man. And so far, you know that I really turn you on. That's a good indicator of 'want'." He smirked. "I'm... also pretty sure the real me hasn't had a girlfriend in a really long time, so maybe that means something. There might even be some sexual tension there..."

"I'm a 26 year old male. Shampoo commercials turn me on, so don't flatter yourself," he replied snidely.

"Shampoo commercials don't make you lose sleep or have to ditch bowling tournaments," Strong Bad countered.

"...well, not yet they haven't."

"True. Maybe I should apply to be in one of those," Strong Bad grinned.

Homestar winced at the idea. "Eugh. So don't need that mental image. Can I wake up now? Are we done?"

"Hmm... one more thing, I think," the dream incarnation pondered. He then grabbed Homestar by the shirt and yanked him into a quick kiss.

Suddenly, he woke up to a warm beam of sunlight on his face and the sound of someone knocking persistently on his front door.

He groaned and rolled over, ignoring it for a few seconds. Was this the dream, or reality? Who even knew anymore? He eventually sat up and went to the answer the door. Dream or reality, it was still annoying as hell.

This time it was Marzipan standing on his doorstep. If it was still a dream, it was at least a little more realistic already. She was holding a cardboard box stuffed with CD's and some other various odds and ends- things Homestar had left at her house and probably forgotten about.

He blinked a few times. "...um. What's going on?" he asked nervously. It was never a good sign when your girlfriend showed up at your house with your spare toothbrush and extra set of clothes in hand.

"I'm returning your things," Marzipan replied. "Here." She pushed the items into his hands. "And these." She dropped a set of keys on top of the bundle. "I'd like my set back, if you don't mind."

Homestar stared at the shiny silver keys for a few seconds. "... are you br..." Realization hit him. "You're breaking up with me? We haven't even talked about anything! You can't just stop by my house and break up with me without any warning!"

"I gave you an entire day to apologize, or at least give me some kind of explanation," Marzipan said. "Anyway, there's nothing to talk about. I've made up my mind this time."

"If I could explain I would," he muttered bitterly. "Come on, Marzi. You're overreacting."

Marzipan was quiet for a second. "Even if I am, I still think we should spend some time apart," she said firmly. "Maybe when you get over whatever your problem is, we can talk then. But right now, I just don't want to deal with it. Don't make this hard- I just want my keys."

He sighed angrily and put the box by the door. "Fine. But you'll see. In a week we'll think this is hysterical." _Hopefully._

Marzipan folded her arms angrily. "Saying someone else's name while we're making love is _not_ hysterical."

Homestar rubbed his arm nervously, face going a bit red. He avoided looking at her. "... right. Of course it's not."

She huffed a bit and waited until she took the keys from him. "Thank you." She started to leave but hesitated at the bottom of the steps. _Oh no you don't, girl. No second thoughts- just keep walking._ With a sigh, she left the premises.

He watched her go with a pout. Great. Worst Thursday ever, too. This was just a shitty week.

He closed his door and leaned against it, letting out an annoyed sigh. "Way to go," he muttered, smacking his head against the door with each word. "You need to fix this, idiot."

He tried to come up with an idea. Marzipan's birthday was fast approaching, but there was the terrifying thought of accidentally addressing it to Strong Bad. He blushed slightly and groaned, slapping his forehead. What, now just thinking about him got him super flustered? Great. Perfect. Splendid. This situation could not get any better.

He stretched and headed upstairs to shower, get dressed and go on his morning run a little bit late. Maybe the cold air would do him some good.


	2. Chapter 2

Marzipan kept her arms tightly weaved across her chest as she made the walk home. Maybe she was overreacting. Mistakes happened didn't they?

Not ... mistakes like that, though. She would have responded the same way to a girl's name, wouldn't she? Or someone else's? It's not as if the fact that was Stron...

She sighed. _Who am I kidding? It's because it was his name that I'm reacting like this._

Homestar's relationship with Strong Bad was odd before. He was always blowing her off because Strong Bad _might_ be at bowling this week, or he _might_ come to the bar after work. She didn't think it meant anything at first. But now it was upsetting.

Just ... Strong Bad? Why _Strong Bad?_ She shook her head. Anyone else would have been a mistake. Strong Bad was... an insult.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, Marzipan," a very self-assured voice greeted her as she neared her house. "Fancy meeting you out here while I'm... walking by." He'd been 'walking by' for about the last half hour since discovering Marzipan had left her house. Now seemed like the appropriate time to test out the effectiveness of his experiment.

She sighed angrily. "What do you want?" she asked, not bothering to disguise the annoyance in her voice.

"I think the real question we should be asking here is what do you want? Or... maybe who," Strong Bad replied.

"What are you babbling about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He tapped his fingers together. "Well, a little bird told me that you and Homestar are having some problems lately. I was wondering if there was anything I could do to... um, help."

She laughed bitterly. He could stay out of her ex-boyfriend's head, for starters.

"A little bird, huh," she muttered. "Homestar and I are spending some time apart. We need to re-evaluate our relationship, but that doesn't concern you."

"Aw, that sucks, sorry to hear it," Strong Bad said quickly, not sounding in the least bit sincere. "Hey, you know, I hear one of the best ways to uh... re-evaluate a relationship is to like, have a different relationship with somebody else for a while. Just for comparison. And if that other one happens to be better, well... I mean, it's a win, win situation."

Marzipan glared at him. "Hmm. Yes, well, if it's all the same to you I really need to be alone for a while."

Strong Bad blinked. Alone? No, no... that wasn't how this was supposed to work. Something was wrong, here. She still seemed to be acting an awful lot like her normal, un-infatuated self. "Are you sure? I got some time. I'd totally be up for some being alone with... you." Okay, that came out kind of awkward. He needed to be more convincing than that. "You know you want to."

"Ugh," she groaned, but realized how ... insulting that probably sounded. Well, some of that insult was justified. "I'm positive I don't want yo... any company."

"Okay, now wait... so how positive do you mean when you say positive? It's kind of important, because if it's like, the 'I'm playing hard to get' kind of positive, that's a good thing. I can work with that." He paused. "...be honest, did you break up with Homestar because of me?"

"You could say that," she sighed, frustrated. "Strong Bad, you know as well as I do that nothing will ever happen between us."

"Never say 'ever'," Strong Bad pointed out. "S-seriously, you mean to say you don't feel even the tiniest bit more attracted to me than usual? Like... maybe just in the last few days?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No. In fact? Less so than usual."

Strong Bad slapped his forehead and groaned, face going a bit red under his mask. Great. Now he just made himself look like a total moron in front of Marzi. "I'm gonna kill Strong Sad," he muttered.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, well... I think I actually have, um... something I should be doing. So I'll see you later. Unless you change your mind- in which case, call me." With that, he hastily escaped, shortcutting through her hedges just to get out of sight faster.

Not cool. He had really banked on this dumb love potion working, and now- well, at least he hadn't paid for it. But still, Strong Sad had gone and gotten his hopes up. Stupid, nerdy brother and his stupid fake potions.

After much arguing, the stupid, nerdy brother in question managed to convince Strong Bad that maybe Marzipan just didn't _drink_ the melonade yet. She was a big fan of water, afterall. Water and organic teas. She hardly ever drank super sugary juice. This bought Strong Sad a few more days before Strong Bad totally flipped out on him for the 'useless' endeavor.

Well, supposedly useless. Maybe if the purple, cut-off shorts hadn't been Homestar's, and maybe if some of those blonde strands of hair hadn't been from his Halloween costume last year, and maybe if those scraps of paper with Marzipan's handwriting on it hadn't also included scribblings of ducks and bugs by Homestar, the potion would have been useless. But it was doing its job, all right- it just had the wrong target.

The increasingly frustrated wrong target. The dreams were getting more frequent, more vivid, more _kinky_ than ever, and he was in less and less control. The faux Strong Bad that played mind games with him took a day off here, a day off there, but the nights where he was gone were filled with explicit fantasies about Strong Bad pinning him to the bed ... or his desk ... or pretty much anywhere he wanted and having his way with Homestar, who- at least in dream form- welcomed the advances eagerly until he was a whimpering, lusty mess just _begging_ for more.

Pom Pom tried desperately to comfort his friend, to get him to relax, but after a week without any change it seemed hopeless.

"Yuh-huh. Every night for the past week, apparently," Pom Pom sighed. He paused, waiting for the other person on the line to respond. "Well, you're a psych major ... I figured you'd have an idea. Mmhmm. That sort of frequency implies a borderline obsession...?" He sighed. He figured as much. "Well, Homestar's always seemed to have a thing for Strong Bad, but ... well, you should have seen his face when he told me he was having these super crazy sex dreams about him. I'm worried about him. This can't be healthy."

Unbeknownst to the speaker, Strong Bad himself had been just walking up to the office to postpone his time off request, seeing as Marzipan was being so picky about her beverages- according to Strong Sad, anyway. He was now frozen with his hand hovering above the door handle at the last few sentences of Pom Pom's conversation.

"What?" he mouthed silently as the overheard discussion sank in. His initial reaction was disgust. He decided against entering Pom Pom's office and retreated back to his desk, wearing a very uncomfortable expression at the thought of being included in Homestar's sexual fantasies. Not that he didn't suspect the idiot was probably playing for the other team, so to speak, but... ugh. No wonder the guy never left him alone...

Then again, maybe there was a way to use this to his advantage. Homestar, obsessed? And now, the ultimate blackmail... Strong Bad smirked to himself. Okay, grossness aside, he could totally put a positive use to this bit of information. After all, when was tormenting Homestar ever _not_ a good way to pass the time.

He locked out his computer, bringing up a blue screen error message and left his desk, heading over to Homestar's cubicle.

Homestar was typing away, trying to make up for last time. After last week's atrocious performance, he decided to go out of his way to make sure this week's were perfect. Not that anyone ever really noticed if they were truly 'perfect', but they _did_ notice when it was half-assed so the extra effort was worth it.

He sighed and stretched, cracking his neck with a yawn.

Strong Bad leaned against the edge of the cubicle smugly. "Better stay awake, this office is supposed to be a G-rated environment," he snickered.

Homestar practically jumped out of his skin, but over the past few days he'd half-trained himself not to look around at the sound of Strong Bad's voice no matter how bad he wanted to. He cleared his throat and glared at his screen, which was... a little hard to see since nearly every ounce of blood in him had rushed straight to his face.

"Wh-what do you want, I'm busy," he huffed.

"Yeah, right." Strong Bad stepped forward and jabbed the power button on his monitor. "Busy avoiding looking at me, you mean. Not that I blame you."

"Hey! I'm working," he snapped, glaring at him. Big mistake. He pulled his eyes away nervously and pretended to be focused on the button that turned his monitor back on. "D-don't you have a project to do?"

"My computer crashed," Strong Bad replied. Oh man, this was... well, mean. But also way more fun now that he knew why the dipwit was being weird around him. "I'd ask you to help me fix it, but I wouldn't want to go and make your little 'condition' any worse by giving you more real life situations for your brain to pervert on a nightly basis."

Homestar twitched, going pale. "..._what?_"

"You heard me. I know all about your secret, man," Strong Bad snorted, resting an arm on Homestar's computer monitor. "And let me tell you, I find it hilarious. I'd be flattered if I wasn't so creeped out, but still," He snickered.

He tensed up, face going from deathly pale to bright red in record time. He'd have gotten to his feet if he wasn't so sure his legs would give out. "I-i-i... gjjjk." Brain function was at a minimum, if that. Whatever part wasn't stammering incoherently (he was fairly sure he was trying to say 'how') was going a mile a minute. Theories on how he could have found out raced through his mind, but more prominently there were visions of last Monday's dream involving him, his cubicle, Strong Bad, and Strong Bad's possibly-fictional ability to undo a pair of jeans with just his teeth. Naturally, his brain would gravitate towards _that_ dream, just to make this a million times more awkward and impossible to deal with.

Finally, something that actually sounded like a work blurted out of his mouth. "WHAT."

"Wow, those must be some dreams," Strong Bad observed. It took a lot to render Homestar speechless. "Anyway I know I'm hot and everything, but just for the record, I am not interested. Figured I should clarify that, so as to keep your weird Homestar fantasies and reality properly separated."

Homestar relaxed slightly. Okay, _ow?_ That sort of gave him a sharp pain in his chest. He growled and got to his feet, pointing in the direction of Strong Bad's cubicle. "Get. Out."

"Last time I checked you weren't my boss." Strong Bad folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not done yet. While we're on this topic of discussion, if you're _really_ that into me, you should probably let Marzipan know you're like... gay or whatever so she can move on. If you do that, I might forgive you for having creepy dreams about me."

"I'm not gay," Homestar flared, jabbing him in the chest. "And you stay away from Marzipan, w-we're just going through a rough patch." His face reddened. _And the dreams aren't creepy, they're just unnaturally hot_. His brain to mouth filter had been in overdrive all week, and it was paying off.

Strong Bad raised an eyebrow at him. "Whatever, man. You guys are always going through rough patches. I'm not promising anything, because if she happens to decide she wants a real boyfriend, I'm not gonna say no."

Homestar blinked back shock. "REAL BOYFRIEND! I'm plenty real now GET OUT," he sputtered, drawing attention to the conversation. If he noticed all eyes were gravitating towards him he clearly didn't care.

One of their seemingly endless amount of bosses shushed Homestar. "Quit screwing around and get back to work, you two." Homestar blushed at the unfortunate choice of words.

Strong Bad rolled his eyes and glared at the supervisor, finally complying and heading back to his own cubicle. "Seeya around, dork. And get that mind of yours out of the gutter."

He sat down back at his desk, a jittery mess but he _tried_ to work on his reports.

Strong Bad knew. He knew, and it was a big joke to him and worse yet ...

_...but just for the record, I am not interested._

He winced. Not interested? Not even a little? He stared at his reports. _Well, why the hell NOT?_

Homestar was a great boyfriend, if he said so himself. Sure, he forgot birthdays and major romantic holidays, but he was sweet, goofy. He always got Marzipan candy she liked if he stopped by the gas station, he was more than happy to listen to her latest song no matter how atrocious it was, he was more than willing to give a back rub, and he was, if Marzipan's reactions were an indication, amazing in the sack.

He pouted bitterly. So why wasn't he interested? Straight, shmaight. Homestar was straight, yet there was no use denying that he was seriously crushing on Strong Bad. He'd given up that argument days ago, even if he didn't understand why him of all people.

He hit 'print' and got up from his desk, snagging the reports in the process. Strong Bad knew. He could view it as an unfortunate mishap ... or he could see it as step one to plan A. He sighed, annoyed. All he really knew now was that _that_ much interaction with Strong Bad at one time left him an aroused, disorientated mess and he needed to scratch that itch asap. Hopefully once he relented to the dream-Strong Bad's wishes, he'd relinquish the choke hold on his sex drive and turn the knob down from 'horny all the goddamn time' to just 'regular guy' status.

He slipped his reports in a folder and grabbed his bag. Pom Pom kept telling him to take a few days off, and considering that all he wanted to do was crawl in a hole and die, today seemed the best day to start.

If only it was that easy. As it turned out, leaving work (and by extension, Strong Bad's presence) caused more problems than it solved. Maybe it was the excess interaction with Strong Bad that day, or the frustrating acknowledgement and rejection of his feelings that left him in a broken mental state. Whatever it was, something had given way upstairs. He was walking home when it happened.

"You're just gonna walk away? After all that, you want to just hide in your house while he's going after your ex? Seriously?"

The voice was Strong Bad's, but it carried a tone that Homestar had come to recognize over the past several days as belonging to his mental representation of him. The problem was, he was awake to the best of his knowledge. Falling asleep while walking home from work was kind of hard to do.

Homestar whipped around, looking for the source. After not finding one, he pinched his arm to check and see if he was awake. Yes, he was. "...what are you doing out while I'm awake?" he demanded, jabbing the side of his head. "_Not cool_. Being awake is the only time I have away from you!"

"Clearly you need my assistance on a more immediate basis," the voice replied. "You haven't gotten anywhere with me sticking to the night shift."

He groaned. "I don't _want_ to get anywhere besides _home._"

"You know what I mean. What happened to Plan A, huh? Come on, man. Start putting those rusty gears in here to work and come up with a game plan, or I'm gonna make you wish you were sleeping."

He narrowed his eyes. "My gears are not rusty. What do you want me to do? I can't just start hitting on Strong Bad. I can't even talk to the guy because _for some reason_-" He jabbed his head with each syllable. "- everytime I do I get so turned on I can't even think straight."

"Then maybe you should stop avoiding him, duh. If you'd just stop fighting it all the time you won't have those problems," the voice explained, slightly annoyed. "Look, you still have some games you borrowed from him. Bring one back. It'll earn you some points and it's a good excuse to go see him. As for the rest, I'm sure you'll think of something. You're not as dumb and hopeless as you think. I mean, you came up with me, right?" the voice snickered.

"I don't wanna see him," he snapped. "I'm running away and hiding at my house _because _I don't wanna see him."

"You didn't mind seeing him before. As I recall, you even blew off Marzipan a few times to hang out with him," the voice pointed out.

Homestar mulled that over bitterly. "Well, that's because I thought he was cool."

"Or maybe you just always secretly had a thing for him," the voice teased. "He seems to think that's the case."

"Well, I didn't," he growled. It was hard talking to someone in your head. He realized how crazy he looked after a guy passing by him gave him a weird stare.

He pouted angrily and took out his cellphone. The least he could do is pretend this was a phonecall. "Look, I'll admit it. I'm crushing pretty hard on him but I can't go over there. He KNOWS. I can't face him."

"Dude, he just got the hardest part of the plan out of the way for you. You don't have to admit that you like him anymore because he already knows! And best of all, he didn't even punch you in the face for it. He just came over to pick on you and gloat over the fact that you couldn't keep your mind off him. That means there's a chance, man."

Homestar blinked at that. Strong Bad _didn't _beat the snot out of him, after all. That meant he was at least willing to accept the situation.

He frowned. "But..." He was running out of arguments. "Okay, fine. I'll take the stupid game over tonight. But you need to do something for me," he insisted. "You need to keep my head on straight. None of this stammering and blushing crap. It's embarrassing enough as it is, I don't need to go into total 'school girl' mode around him."

"Okay okay... I'll see what I can do. But to be fair, you are a total dork. I can't do much to change that fact," the voice snorted.

He huffed and shut his phone. This was ... it was going to be hard.

A few hours later, Homestar stood at the base of Strong Bad's front step, game in hand. He couldn't bring himself to move from where he was. All he'd have to do was ring the bell, and give the game to Strong Bad. Maybe say hi. Maybe start up a conversation. Maybe talk about that afternoon. He blushed and shook his head. Well, no. Talking about that was out of the question. But what if Strong Bad brought it up?

He turned around and walked a few feet before sighing angrily and going right back to his previous perch. How hard could this be? '_Hey Strong Bad, just dropping of Alien Head Squishers 2, oh that's a nice pair of pants, mind if I rip them off and go down on y_-'

His face went beet red and he turned around, dashing all the way to the curb before he relented and went back to the front step again.

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can." That persistent voice had returned. "Here, I'll make it easier for you. Look, Strong Bad's right behind you!" When Homestar jumped and turned, he stumbled and was forced to throw out a hand to catch himself. His hand landed right on the doorbell, and the voice laughed, fading away.

"You are such a jerk," Homestar hissed loudly. "When I get up there I'm gonn-"

"Homestar?" Strong Sad interrupted his ranting. "What are you doing here?"

He relaxed a bit. Strong Sad. Strong Sad he could handle. "Oh, uh, hi. I'm here to return ..." He looked at the box. "Alien Head Squishers 2. To Strong Bad. Is he home?"

"Yeah, he's in the basement," Strong Sad replied, thumbing over his shoulder. "I'll warn you though, he's watching his soaps. I can take it for him if you want."

Homestar hesitated. "No, I should ... I need to talk to him. Thanks," he grinned weakly. He desperately wanted to take that escape, but god knows the Strong Bad in his head would have made him regret it. He pushed past him and headed down the steps, stopping around the halfway point to peak at Strong Bad.

Strong Bad appeared engrossed in his soaps, periodically yelling at the screen at someone named Raymundo. He smiled and let out a sigh. He was enthusiastic about it. It was adorable. He cleared his throat to announce his presence when he made it to the foot of the steps.

Strong Bad didn't even look up. "Whaddya want, I'm busy." He grabbed the channel changer and turned up the volume on the TV a few notches. He wasn't going to let Homestar make him miss any of this episode. Raymundo just admitted to cheating on his best friend's sister. He could already tell this was going to be a good episode.

Homestar gripped the game nervously. Well, so far so good. "Uh. Just bringing back your game." He waited for a response, but nothing came. The silence was too awkward to bear. "So, I was hoping to borrow another one. Like this one. If that's okay."

"Yeah, sure, just bring it back when you're done," he replied distractedly. "Augh, no freakin' way! She was totally into you! Get back in there!" He leaned forward, perched on the edge of the couch and looking like he was liable to throw the remote at the TV at any moment. The chips in the old plastic were a reminder that it tended to happen a lot.

Homestar glanced at the screen curiously. Raymundo (or at least, who Homestar assumed was Raymundo) had taken to sulking in his room, too overcome with inner conflict to admit his feelings for the leading lady.

He snorted. That hit a little closer to home than he would've liked. He tapped his fingers on the game's box, quiet for a moment. He eventually found the courage to take a step forward- a small one, but it was a start. By the time the commercials came on he'd taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch, squished into the corner. He kept his eyes focused on the game in his hand. It was obvious Strong Bad wasn't exactly paying him any attention.

Strong Bad growled at the TV when the commercials dared to interrupt his viewing experience, only then glancing away from it. He read the box in Homestar's grasp.

"Well if you want another game they're in my room. You're gonna have to wait, I got like fifteen minutes left for Raymundo to get his crap together and stop being such an idiot. And if you even think about interrupting it, I _will_ punch your teeth in."

For once he didn't jump at his voice. He was too tense to really move, much less jump. He went red and averted his eyes. "Uh huh. Th-that's fine. Finish your ... your thingie." He motioned towards the tv with a wave of his hand. "I can wait."

"It is not a 'thingie.' It is a daytime drama," Strong Bad corrected. "And it happens to be the second half of a two-parter. Hence the importance of not missi- shutupit'sbackon." He leaned forward again, snapping back to attention.

Homestar was quiet for a long time, watching Strong Bad at first and then switching his attention to the show.

"But I can't love Miranda, she's my ... my sister-in-law!" Raymundo slammed his desk dramatically. "But I do! I mustn't tell her. She mustn't know how she consumes my dreams."

_Too late_, Homestar thought bitterly, raising an eyebrow. Lucky bastard still had his dirty little secret under wraps.

"Raymundo?" a girl questioned, entering his room. Homestar realized, thanks to Raymundo's awkward, over-acted body language, that she must be Miranda. "Raymundo, you must rejoin us at the party! Whatever is wrong?"

Homestar gave Strong Bad a weird look. How can he watch this crap?

The look went unnoticed. Whatever the reason was, it must've been a pretty good one to him considering how engulfed he was in the storyline.

"Ohh, if you don't tell her right now..." Strong Bad muttered, not finishing his threat.

"Miranda, I have something to tell you," Raymundo declared.

"What is it?" Miranda inquired. The show must have been really low budget, because at that point a bit of a boom mic dipped down from the top of the screen.

"I love you, Miranda," Raymundo got on his knees. "I can't keep it a secret any longer, or it might end me."

Strong Bad snorted. "Finally. It took you long enough."

"But Raymundo!" the girl gasped overdramatically. "What about Leo?"

"Forget him! Let us run away together."

Miranda looked away. "Oh, Raymundo... I cannot. I'm..." she held her arm over her forehead, looking away. "I'm pregnant."

Strong Bad blinked as 'to be continued' flashed on the screen. A second later the remote went hurtling at the TV, hitting the power button with somewhat impressive accuracy. "WHAT. THE. CRAP."

Homestar yelped at the sudden action. "GAH!" He gripped the box and tensed up, staring at Strong Bad. "Overreacting much?"

"NO." Strong Bad motioned at the screen. "Pregnant? Pregnant? I mean, really? They have been building up to this point all freakin' season, and she's gotta go get herself knocked up? Who writes this crap? Who made this thing a three parter? They need to be fired!"

He tensed up and scooted back a bit. "Uh ... huh. Cliffhangers get people's attention, though...?" he guessed. "You'll watch it next time, right? Then they did their job."

"No, if they did their job, Raymundo woulda got the girl in this episode," Strong Bad huffed. "And said girl wouldn't be pregnant, either. Stupid women getting pregnant all the time. They're ruining the plot."

He tapped his fingers on the box, quiet for a few seconds. "So, wh-what should he ... have done, then?" he asked.

"Where do I start," Strong Bad snorted. "He should have worked on convincing her that she was going after the wrong guy, for one. Coulda worn some expensive aftershave, got himself some tight pants, and shown her what she's missing out on. And presents couldn't hurt. But no, he's gotta go all total moron and blurt it out."

Homestar blinked a few times, glancing down at his legs. Tight pants? Well, that was a check. Presents? Not quite, but definitely better than being empty handed. No aftershave, but there was the body spray he sometimes wore if he skipped his morning shower...

He raised an eyebrow. "He should, huh?" he asked calmly. He gripped the box in his hand, quiet for what seemed like forever. He was half certain that Strong Bad was still ranting about Raymundo's idiocy when he interrupted him.

"I think it's a mistake that you're going after Marzipan," he blurted, voice cracking slightly. Dream Strong Bad would be so proud... after he was done molesting him, of course.

"Huh?" Strong Bad took a second to grasp the abrupt change in topic. "I'm- wait, what- no. Of course you'd say that, she used to be your girlfriend." He cleared his throat. "But I'll have you know, I think we've got... like, some kind of vibe going. I will have a definite chance with her once she stops saying no to me."

"She's not gonna stop saying no," he insisted. "Ever. She hates you, she's always hated you! She's always gonna say no. Find someone..." He felt his face go hot. "S...someone who'll say ...yes." What the hell was that? Why couldn't words stay in his head for at least a second before he spewed them up? His face went even redder. _Why do I have to be such a dork around him?_

"She doesn't ha-" he paused, then glared at Homestar. There was a lot of evidence that supported that claim, but he also didn't know about the whole love potion thing... that was hopefully starting to work sometime soon. "Er... hate is a strong word. And anyway, you don't know anything. Everybody knows that the ones who say 'yes' right away are always the worst at making out and/or have a serious hygiene problem."

Homestar looked insulted. "I do not have a hygiene problem!"

"I didn't say you did, I was talking about people I'd ask out, not you," Strong Bad snorted.

He winced. _Ow_. "I'd say yes," he muttered, looking away.

"That's... nice," Strong Bad said flatly. "Homestar, what part of 'I'm not gay' do you not understand."

"Well, neither am I," he huffed. He still refused to look at him. "It's just a waste of time to go after Marzipan. She doesn't even like you as a friend. I _do_, a lot, an...and..." He appeared to be losing his nerve. He tensed up and shook his head. "I... w-well, I was thinking m-maybe you a-and I c...could..." He shrunk into the corner of the couch, utterly humiliated. Why was this a good idea again?

Strong Bad slapped his forehead. There was so much wrong with this conversation, he didn't know where to start. "No. I told you, I'm not interested in men, okay? You fall in that category, in case you've forgotten again. And I am least of all interested in guys who follow me around everywhere and apparently have kinky dreams about me. No."

Homestar's shoulders slumped. Well, of course he wasn't into guys. That's not exactly news, what with the way he was hounding after Marzipan. He sighed sadly. "R-right," he muttered, getting to his feet. He dropped the game on the couch where he had been sitting. "F-figured it was worth a try. Right. Yes. I'm gonna go ... home." He thumbed up the steps. "Now. Because. Yes. You got your game and I can ... go. Because that's why I came over."

He cleared his throat and hurried up the stairs, hesitating halfway up. "F-for the record? I'm not interested in men either. J-just you. Only you." He ducked his head into his chest and ran up the steps, terrified that there'd be a response to that.

There wasn't- just a very weirded-out stare, but Homestar was long gone to even notice it. Strong Bad sank back against the couch. "Why me? Augh... " He got up briefly to retrieve his remote from the floor and turned the TV back on. He flipped to Wheel of Fortune, hoping to drown out the awkwardness that had just transpired with Vanna White and her vowels.

Homestar rushed past Strong Sad and out the door without so much as a goodbye.

He walked home, tense and miserable. Halfway there he narrowed his eyes. "That was the worst thing you've made me do yet."

"So pessimistic," his head voice replied. "Don't worry, man. So you lost one battle. Let's not give up the entire war just yet. We've learned some very useful information from this."

"We learned that Strong Bad's never ever gonna want me and that this a stupid waste of time," he snapped. "He's straight as an arrow. I don't stand a chance."

"Whoa whoa, not a waste of time. Remember what he said? You gotta convince him. But of course, you didn't listen... just had to blurt it right out." Homestar could almost picture the imaginary dream-Strong Bad rolling his eyes. "Lucky for you, I got an idea."

"I already hate it," he huffed. "Fine, tell me."

"Well, first of all... you're gonna need to go shopping." The voice paused. "For a dress."

Homestar stopped in his tracks, paling. "...NO. I VETO THIS PLAN."

"You can't. It's a sacrifice you're gonna have to make if you want to get to Strong Bad."

"I can't have him thinking I'm a fag AND a crossdresser," he snapped, fists clenched. "Nuh-uh, no way."

"The only way he'll even give you a chance is if you're a girl, dude... so you're gonna have to make it look that way. And once you make him fall for you, you can drop the disguise. It's totally a foolproof plan."

"Except for the part where Strong Bad _totally kills me_ and buries my remains in his backyard," he said flatly.

"Oh relax, jeez. You're being overdramatic enough to apply for an acting job on that soap opera," the voice snickered. "He hasn't killed you yet, and he knows that you're having kinky dreams about him. AND you even asked him out. I think you're safe." The voice paused. "Mostly. Anyway, it's not gonna matter because this plan will totally work."

"Just like your last plan totally worked?" he asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow. "I'm not doing it so it doesn't matter. This plan is ridiculous. I couldn't pass for a girl even if I tried."

"I can demonstrate how wrong that assumption is tonight, if you like," his head voice teased.

"I'm _not doing this_."

"Great. I've got something really fun planned for later, then..." the voice chuckled. "That whole girl disguise thing has given me the best ideas ever."

Homestar's shoulders slumped and he sighed angrily. "Anything you do to me up there can't be half as bad as what Strong Bad would do to me out here," he muttered.

Later that night he was singing a much ... different tune. His wrists bound above his head and the world's shortest skirt imaginable were quickly changing his mind. "Fine," he blurted, squirming half out of just how uncomfortable he felt and half out of how risqué he was dressed. He was pretty sure he had a super cheesy porno with this exact outfit in it, but on a skinny blonde girl with big boobs and pigtails. "I give, I give. W-w-we'll do it your way, okay?"

The Strong Bad-that-wasn't grinned. "You see? You have nothing to worry about... you look pretty fricken hot in a skirt, if I do say so..." He chuckled, waving a hand. The bindings disappeared, but the revealing outfit remained unaltered.

Homestar rubbed his wrist, face still burning. "Uh huh. Of course I pass for a girl in t-this ..." he wiggled his fingers, looking for the word. "I ... I guess it's a dream? Sort of. You alter reality however you want. Yo...you probably narrowed my shoulders or something," he muttered, glancing in the mirror Strong Bad had placed in the center of the room.

"I did nothing of the sort," Strong Bad snorted. "That would have defeated the whole purpose. I mean, if I wanted you to look super accurate, trust me..." he motioned over his shoulder and the mirror's reflection changed to show a busty, skinny girl sitting where Homestar had been a second earlier. "I could manage."

He glared at him, arms crossed over his chest. "You're a riot," he muttered. "But I can't go out into the real world looking like _this_," he snapped, motioning to himself. "I'd get arrested. Fast. And I can't wear a skirt."

"But you look good in skirts," Strong Bad smirked. "Not a lot of guys can pull that off. You got a point, though." He tilted his head in thought and Homestar's outfit changed again. "Something a little more classy..."

He looked himself over, annoyed. Tight jeans and a flowy little blouse thing. "Now I just look gay." He tapped his chin. "If I gotta wear it, I should get a say."

"Fine. Just remember, it's gotta be convincing," Strong Bad sighed. He walked over to Homestar's closet, as they were still in his bedroom. It just kept getting altered for dream purposes. He pulled open the door and a pile of clothes fell out. "Go nuts. You got a bit before you're due to wake up. That's pretty much everything you've ever seen a girl wear." He then flopped onto the bed beside Homestar and propped himself up on his elbows. "I'll be over here makin' sure you don't make any poor fashion choices," he grinned.

"You are such a pervert," Homestar hissed. There wasn't much he could do about it, though. After 45 minutes, it became clear to Homestar that jeans didn't fall under the 'convincing' category.

He sighed, seeming to settle on a sweater vest, blouse and knee-high skirt combo. He examined himself in the mirror, face beet red. "I don't really look like that do I...?" Even he had to admit, in the right skirt he actually looked like he had hips.

Strong Bad got up off the bed to stand beside him, arms folded over his chest as he inspected the outfit both in the reflection and in person. He whistled. "Not bad at all. And yes, you do." He smirked at him through the mirror and slapped him on the rear. "But you'll see for yourself soon enough, cupcake."

At that, Homestar woke up.

He jerked upright, blushing furiously. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You're totally gonna go away once I get Strong Bad to like me, right?" When he didn't receive a response, he sighed and got up for the day.

After two bus trips and some intense searching, Homestar found a shop that catered to guys who were very much into women's clothing. He tried normal girls' clothes, but there were some seams that just didn't sit right on his chest.

After being hit on and fawned over by every guy who worked there, he examined himself in the mirror. He pouted, turning around. "Seriously?" he muttered, pulling at the skirt. Who knew he'd make such a convincing female? The not-Strong Bad wasn't exaggerating, apparently. "...but I still look like me," he muttered, pointing to his face. "Anyone who knows me isn't gonna buy it."

"That's what makeup is for," Strong Bad's voice replied. "And maybe do something with your hair. You have hat hair so bad it's not funny. Well, actually it is pretty funny."

Homestar mussed with his hair. "And my voice?"

"Get more practice on those high notes," he snickered. "Chances are, the real me is gonna be too busy lookin' at those hips and legs to pick apart your disguise. Maybe throw a little different accent on it so it's less like you... you'll be fine."

He raised an annoyed eyebrow. "You're like the fairy godmother from hell, you know that, right?"

"At least I'm not forcing a midnight curfew on ya," the voice replied smugly. "And you realize because I'm in your head, you just called yourself a fairy by extension. Kinda fitting..."

Homestar let out an annoyed grunt. "Oh, shut up."

After a weekend of practicing girlish movements and an altered voice around the house, the day came when Homestar felt he was ... maybe not 'ready' to try, but definitely too fed up with the awkwardly hot dreams where Strong Bad was his teacher and he was an innocent, doe eyed school 'girl'.

He stood outside the Strong household, gripping a clipboard in his arms. "You can do this," he muttered, closing his faux blue eyes- contacts were a must after he realized his dark, almost black eyes would give him away. He frequently got comments on how bizarre they were. He knocked timidly on the door. _Maybe no one's home, maybe I can just run off and try again tomorrow._

No such luck. Strong Bad's muffled voice shouted something before the door was yanked open by Strong Bad himself. He looked a bit frazzled, having been in the middle of an argument with Strong Sad, but his air of crankiness melted away as he blinked at the 'girl' on his doorstep. A grin spread across his face. "Well hi there. What can I do for you?"

Homestar tensed up but tried to shake it off. _Play it cool._

"U-uh-" he cleared his throat. Gotta be more ladylike than that. "My name's Hayley Walker and I'm collecting signatures. I'm petitioning the sound regulations at my school's dorm ..." He squrimed awkwardly before handing him the clipboard. "If you'd like to sign it would be really. Um. Appreciated."

"Would I ever," Strong Bad replied, snatching the clipboard. _Quick, time to say something to break the ice._ "So uh... have I seen you somewhere? You look kinda hot- I mean familiar."

Homestar bit on a freshly painted nail in an attempt not to break out into a grin. Hot? Him? Maybe this was a good plan afterall. "M-me? Um, nope, I don't think so."

"Huh, weird. You're givin' me major deja vu." He looked down at the clipboard. No pen. "Uh- you got something to write with...?" He cleared his throat and added quickly, "Coz if you don't you can totally come inside while I find a pen."

He blinked. He did, in fact, have something to write with, but that was quite an opportunity. "Oh! I guess the uh. Last house stole mine," he said, faking a sheepish giggle. "My bad. We can pop in for one, sure."

"Pop right on in then," Strong Bad said, holding the door for 'her'. Damn, she has nice legs. Bet she's really athletic... Sure, there wasn't much to speak of up top, but this was the first time in a very long time he'd convinced any sort of moderately hot girl to actually set foot in his house. "Can I get ya anything to drink after all that petitioning?"

"No thank you," he said, grinning to himself. This was going strangely well. He reached into his purse (buying that was... awkward) and pulled out a bottle of Strong Bad's favorite non-beer beverage, Mountain Dew- knowing the dude for six or so years really helped him perfect Hayley into an ideal girl for Strong Bad. Of course, keeping a lot of himself was important, too. Can't have Strong Bad falling in love with 'Hayley' and not 'Homestar as Hayley', now can he? "I'm good."

Strong Bad blinked. "Oh. Wow, you've got looks and good taste." Time to test the safety of this situation. "Your, uh... boyfriend's a lucky guy."

Homestar almost giggled for real, but coughed to hide it. "Oh, well, I'm not ... I don't have one."

"Seriously?" Holy crap, this was his lucky day. Don't act desperate. "Well hey, you know... if you're ever like, in the neighborhood wanting to go make- I mean hang out sometime, we should- we should totally do that. If you want. And if I'm not... busy doing other stuff like maybe my job or saving puppies from burning buildings."

He blinked in surprise. "Are you asking me out?" he squeaked, sounding a little more hopeful than he wanted. A skirt and some makeup and now Strong Bad was all over him? This plan just got upgraded from 'passable' to 'freakin' awesome'.

"Yes. Maybe. Yeah, I am," Strong Bad replied. "You wanna go out with me?" That didn't come out quite as smoothly as he'd have liked. Oh hell, who cared. This chick was totally into him.

"Yes!" he blurted. He blushed and looked away awkwardly. "I mean, yes. Yes, that's cool. Yes." He fiddled with his hair, biting his lip to keep from giggling. "Is tonight like ... okay?"

"Tonight? Yeah, tonight is fine. Totally fine. Dinner and a movie?" Strong Bad suggested. The logical part of his brain could catch up later and try to tell him this was too good to be true. Right now, he was still taking it all in. He was only half certain this all wasn't just a really, _really_ awesome dream and he had fallen asleep in front of the TV again.

"Mmhmm. S-sounds great," he giggled, putting his arms behind his back shyly. He was quietly hoping that, for once, this wasn't dream. "I'll meet you here at 7?"

"You got it!" Strong Bad grinned, then paused and snapped his fingers. "Oh, crap! A pen-" he pointed up the stairs. "Pen's upstairs. Totally forgot. I'll uh be right back. Don't go anywhere."

"I won't," he promised, watching him go. He leaned against the wall and let out a dreamy sigh. "He asked me out~" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. _Get a grip, you dork._

Strong Bad bolted up the stairs and started tearing up his room in search of a writing instrument. The noise prompted Strong Sad to peer out of his room toward the end of the hall. "What are you doing?" he asked as Strong Bad reappeared, pen gripped in one hand.

He shoved his little brother back into his room as he passed, "Stay put, El Dumpo, you'll scare away my date."

"Date?" Strong Sad said incredulously. His brother was already gone, skipping the last two steps on the stairs in his hurry.

Yep, Hayley was still there. "I got it. We're good." He held up the pen.

'Hayley' straightened up, still overly giddy. Sure, he wasn't looking forward to the Strong Bad in his mind rubbing it in his face, but Strong Bad had just asked him out, was flirting with him, was eyeing him up... He sighed again, briefly wondering how slutty making out with someone on a first date would be. Probably pretty slutty.

...Whatever, he was hoping for it. He took back his petition once Strong Bad signed it. "Strong Bad, huh," he mused, faking surprise. "I like it. Suits you."

"I know," Strong Bad agreed smugly. "But thanks for noticing. Yours isn't bad either. It's like the comet. Very... celestial."

"Heh," he laughed nervously. "I-i'm not like ... super attached to it. Or anything." He cleared his throat. "It's okay. Sooo, I'll see you tonight, then."

"Yeah. Don't stand me up or anything," Strong Bad laughed weakly. "Er, not that that ever happens to me." He coughed. "Kidding. I'm kidding. Anyway, you gotta go... finish your petitioning. Good luck with that."

"Thanks," he mused. Man, Strong Bad was a terrible flirt, but it was so bad it was almost ... charming. He opened the front door and tapped the toe of his shoe on the ground, biting his lip, Oh, what the hell. He turned back around and gave Strong Bad a quick peck on the cheek. "See ya tonight."

And with that, he sauntered out the door, heading down the street to 'petition' some more.

Strong Bad put a hand to his cheek and watched 'her' walk away, his face burning. "S-seeya." It was a minute before he closed the door, but as soon as he did he punched the air enthusiastically. "HELL YES, I'M AWESOME. Strong Sad, you and your flunky potion can eat it because _clearly_ I do not need that thing." He paused looking around for a clock. "Frick, I should get ready." Nevermind that he had no idea what time it was.

His brother had come down to peek at Strong Bad's mystery date. He glanced out the window- the girl halfway up the street was probably her, and she appeared to be ... talking to herself very excitedly. "Uh huh," he muttered, raising an eyebrow. Going out with random girls who showed up at your house didn't seem like a smart idea, but Strong Bad was always a little on the desperate side. And if it got his mind of the love potion's apparent failure, who was he to complain? "What was she doing here?"

"Eh? Oh, collecting... signatures for something or other," Strong Bad replied distractedly. "She likes Mountain Dew. It's like we're on the same wavelength. Tonight's gonna be awesome."

Strong Sad shrugged and pulled away from the window. "She's kinda tall, isn't she? And she walks like a boy."

Strong Bad glared at him. "Quit being so shallow, man. We've got chemistry goin' on." He huffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, she's got nice legs."

Strong Sad rolled his eyes. "And you call me shallow."

"The point is she asked me out. I don't see you with any dates for tonight, so... there." Strong Bad snorted.

"No, have fun. And when she tries to convert you and make you join the creepy cult she's probably a part of, you can borrow my DnD cloak," he muttered sarcastically. "I just think it's weird to go out with someone who came to your door out of the blue. You don't even know her. And what about Marzipan?"

Strong Bad hesitated. "Well, this is like... motivation. If she wants me, she's gonna have to deal with a little competition." Strong Bad smirked. "I can't help it that the lady-types are lining up for me. I like to think of it as the 'one bird on your doorstep is worth two stubborn ones refusing to go out with you yet' philosophy."

Strong Sad rolled his eyes again. "Whatever. Have fun. Hope she's not a total psychopath. You just gotta be careful. First impressions can be misleading."

'Misleading' was a nice way to put it. Homestar closed his door behind him and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor, a blushing, giggly mess. "Oh my god. I can't believe it worked."

"I told you it would," the voice in his head remarked smugly. "See? You should listen to me more often. You make a totally convincing chick."

Homestar was too giddy to take insult. He sighed dreamily. "I have a date with Strong Bad," he giggled, burying his face in his hands. "A _date_. Me. With him. Tonight." He blinked, frowning. "But what if he doesn't like me? He didn't like me when I was me. What if he doesn't like me as a chick?"

"Oh, come on, what's not to like? You just gotta show him what he's been missing out on for not giving you a chance." The voice paused. "And you know, if you wear a short enough skirt he'll probably be way more willing to overlook the fact that you're a dork," it chuckled. "He seems pretty fond of your legs already."

He pouted angrily. "Believe it or not this experience isn't turning me into a crossdresser. I want him to like _me,_ not my legs."

"That's a shame. You can really rock a skirt." The voice sighed. "But if you have to spoil all the girly fun, well... be yourself. As much as possible, anyway. Annnd you're gonna need more outfits soon, so I'd keep that skirt thing in mind, just in case. You aren't gonna win him over in one date."

He blinked at that. "...MORE OUTFITS?" he asked, paling. "... well you coulda mentioned that _before I left the store._"

"Eh, it didn't cross my mind."

He slammed his head against the door. "Augh, I don't wanna go back. Those guys kept hitting on me."

"That's because you're cute," the voice chuckled. "Tell them you're already spoken for. You got a boyfriend now, you can do that."

Homestar felt his face go hot. "H-h-he's not my boyfriend, though."

"Uh, you guys are going on a date. Close enough in my book."

"One date doesn't make him my boyfriend," he insisted. He smiled to himself and fiddled with the edge of his skirt. "Not ... yet, anyway."

"Uh huh. You really are such a dork," the voice mused. "But at least you're a confident one. Keep up that attitude and you'll be fine tonight."

Homestar sighed and clutched his hands to his chest, a goofy grin on his face. "My boyfriend, Strong Bad," he giggled, testing it out. "I like the sound of that."


	3. Chapter 3

At around quarter to seven, Homestar walked up to Strong Bad's house, feeling rather confident. He smoothed out his skirt once at the door, after hiking it up _just_ a bit at the dream Strong Bad's nagging insistence. He fiddled with his hair, checked himself over and took a deep breath before ringing the bell.

There was a racket as someone raced down the stairs, and the door was yanked open. Strong Bad attempted to hide the fact that he was out of breath by leaning against the door frame. He grinned at his guest. "Hi. You're early." From the look of it, he'd hastily pulled on his mask and a shirt on his way to the door. The shirt was a hard decision to make and ended up being a last minute addition. He wasn't entirely sure where they were going for dinner yet, but most places had that stupid 'no shirt, no service' policy. He didn't want that interfering with his date.

Homestar blinked and giggled, pointing at him. "Your uh. Your mask is a little crooked."

"Oh. Yeah, I knew that." Not to mention after all that work he'd put into his freakin' hair, he'd gone and screwed it up by yanking his mask on too fast. Crap. "One sec." He held up a finger and then let the door drift closed, pulling off his mask to fix himself up in the reflection of a nearby picture frame. When he was done, he pulled the door wide again. "Better?"

He tilted his head, morbidly curious. He'd never seen Strong Bad without his mask on, but it didn't appear that he was willing to reveal that just yet. Oh well. "Much," he nodded, tapping his toe on the ground shyly. "Sorry for being a bit early, I was just a little excited is all."

"Hey, no problem," Strong Bad shrugged, stepping out and closing the door behind him. "So, what kind of food are you in the mood for?"

"Hmm." He tapped his chin. Honestly? He was so nervous he thought he was going to throw up. Eating never actually crossed his mind. "I guess something simple, like pizza. I'm not picky."

Strong Bad seemed a little relieved at that choice. Pizza was fairly inexpensive, and definitely wouldn't screw with his stomach. It needed all the help it could get right now, too. "Pizza it is. Hope you don't mind if we walk. My car's... um, in the shop."

"That's not a problem," he grinned, turning on his heel. He hopped down the steps and looked over his shoulder. "Well? Come on."

Strong Bad shook his head, tearing his eyes away from those legs. "What- yes. Yeah. Let's go." He followed after 'her'.

Strong Bad struck up a conversation along the way, attempting to keep his eyes above skirt level- that was really getting distracting. By the time they reached the restaurant, the topic had shifted around to hobbies and he was talking away about video games.

"-and once you get to the third floor of the castle, there's this boss that I swear is just impossible to get by. That's about when I quit. A game is only fun as far as you can play through it without wanting to gouge out your eyeballs with a spoon. But yeah... I guess you're a girl so you've probably never played that one."

He snorted. "Are you kidding me? That game is awesome. And anyway, you're supposed to find the dungeon master's lantern. The light causes the monster to shrink," he grinned. "I was stuck on that one for a while."

Strong Bad paused at the door of the restaurant. "I knew I was missing something. Man, now I gotta dig out that game so I can play it again. Hope I didn't lend it to Homestar. I'll probably never see it again if I did," he muttered. He pulled open the door and held it. "Ladies first."

Homestar cleared his throat. Note to self- bring that game back.

"Thanks," he nodded, entering. Ladies first. He shook his head. Strong Bad being polite was a weird thing. "You know ... you don't ... _have_ to treat me like a girl. I'm not like ... super feminine or anything," he said slowly. "I'm uh. Like one of the guys. I like video games and beer and things like that."

"Oh. Well, that's cool." Truth be told, it was kind of a relief. Most of those demanding girly-girls he was always trying to ask out thought he was a jerk for not being the kind of guy that waited on them hand and foot. "Especially the video games and beer part. That's gonna make hanging out with you a lot... easier. No offense, but I'm not really into purse shopping or whatever."

He snorted. "Me neither. I hate this stupid thing."

Strong Bad chuckled. There was no denying that this chick was strange, but it was totally in a good way. "Then why do you have it?"

He held it up and frowned. "... because skirts don't have pockets for my wallet."

"Ah, that makes sense. I'd say wear jeans, but you look great in a skirt," he smirked. He then cleared his throat and stepped up to the counter as they were next in line.

Homestar blushed and looked away awkwardly. "Th-thanks," he laughed nervously.  
The guy at the counter looked up boredly. "What can I get ya," he asked, flipping through a magazine.

Homestar tapped his chin. "Just a slice of plain pizza, I guess, and a Mountain Dew."

Strong Bad raised an eyebrow at his date. "Are you a vegetarian?"

He snorted. "God, no. After years of the vegan junk? No way."

"Oh, good," Strong Bad remarked, turning back to the counter guy. "I'll take one of the all-meat, and a Dew."

"Are these together?"

Strong Bad glanced in his sparse wallet and then at his companion. He kinda forgot to go to the bank before this. Well, she did say she liked being treated like one of the guys. "Better make that separate. Um... if that's okay."

"Together is better," he mused, taking out his debit card. "I'll take care of this if you promise to let me pick the movie."

"As long as you don't pick a chick flick," Strong Bad agreed, stepping aside so 'she' could pay.

"Hmm. No promises. Chick flicks make decent make-out mood setters," he answered, smirking.

Strong Bad felt his face go hot. "In that case I can live with it," he said quickly. If things kept going this good, this night would easily go down as one of the best dates he'd ever been on.

Dinner went better than Homestar expected. He'd never really gotten a chance to hang out with Strong Bad. Sure, he followed him places, liked hanging out with him, but Strong Bad had never been so receptive. The reason for the change was clear, but Homestar didn't mind. They were hitting it off pretty well. Homestar had to remind himself to keep in character- he sometimes laughed his real laugh before covering his mistake by coughing or clearing his throat.

When they got the movie theater, Homestar was torn. On one hand, tonight was going pretty fricken well. On the other hand, he didn't want Strong Bad to think 'Hayley' was easy or something. Not that he was... _opposed_ to her being easy (his eyes narrowed when the familiar chuckle of dream Strong Bad pieced his thoughts momentarily), but there were certain things that got in the way. He glanced between two posters, the lesser of all evils. None of the movies looked very good, but he'd narrowed it down to some actiony, explodey film starring some guy with a shaved head and ripped abs, and some touchy-feely chick flick. It looked like the sequel to last year's touchy-feely chick flick that Marzipan made him sit through. _Twice_. He adored her but dear god, a man could only take so much.

He nudged the carpet with his toe, chewing on his lower lip. "M-maybe you should pick," he offered. After all, he already knew he was totally crazy about Strong Bad. The important thing was a return on those feelings, right? His choice would be a pretty big indication of what he thought so far. "I'm stuck between Gunkillers and The Last Lament of Sally." Didn't she lament enough last movie?

"Hmm." Strong Bad examined both posters. He was pretty tempted to go for the one that might possibly end up in making out, but then this was sorta the first date... and hell, this girl was actually fun to be with. Like, really fun and not just fun to look at. Maybe just for tonight he'd play it safe. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea. "I've never seen those other Sally movies so I'm thinking we stick with Gunkillers." He smirked. "Unless you think you can't handle all those loud explosions."

He sighed, bringing a hand to his chest. A bit of a relief- Strong Bad didn't just want up his skirt after all. "Please. I love explodey things. The more blood and guts the better."

"Agreed." And there was always the credits for making out, if it had a happy ending. Strong Bad walked up to the ticketmaster and paid for both tickets this time. It cleared out his wallet, but he'd deal with that later. He knew where Strong Sad kept his latest attempt at an emergency stash.

Gunkillers certainly had a lot of guns. And killers.

Homestar didn't mind- action movies were his favorite, after all. If a building was blowing up, or there was a high speed car chase, he was usually pretty content. And besides, 20 minutes in Strong Bad had done that terribly awful cheesy 'pretend to stretch and put an arm around the girls' shoulder' move, so Homestar was pretty blissful. He bit his lip to suppress the goofy grin that so desperately wanted out. This was definitely the best date ever as far as he was concerned. He could probably die happy right now.

When the final scene played out and the credits rolled an hour and a half later, Strong Bad's stealthy inching left him right up against his partner, arm still wrapped around her. The bad guy had been defeated in a massive, very computer animated storm of destruction and mayhem. A happy ending indeed. He leaned a bit closer. Maybe he could just sneak a-

'Hayley' turned to look at him, and he bailed. _First. Date._ He pulled his arm away and yawned. "Guess we better go. That was freakin' awesome, but I'm beat. Long day at work today."

"I can get home from here," Homestar replied, getting to his feet. "Unless you want me to walk you home...?"

"Nah- well, I mean sure if you really want to," Strong Bad shrugged, standing up and stretching a bit. Having his arm in that position for so long had put a kink in it.

He brushed some of his hair behind his ear and giggled. "W-well, yeah, I kinda do." Strong Bad's house was a _wee_ bit closer to his own than the movie theater, after all. He grabbed his purse and started out, waving for him to follow. "Come on."

Strong Bad gave 'her' an odd look before following. "Man, you're... weird," he said finally once they got outside. "I'm supposed to be the one walking you home. Not that I really care, it's just... you know. Weird."

"Huh? Oh, well uh your house comes before my house on the way home from here," he lied, rubbing the back of his neck. "...i...is there something wrong with weird?"

Strong Bad blinked. "No! No, not at all. Hell, this is the most fun I've had on a date in a long time. Weird is cool. I meant it in a good way." _Real smooth, Strong Bad._

"Oh." He sighed, relieved. Heh. 'Weird' suited this situation pretty well. "Good. You really had fun?"

"Oh yeah. It's not every day I get to date a girl that can give me video game hints and can sit through an action movie without freaking out at all the good parts."

Homestar rubbed his arm, grinning nervously. "W-well, I'm not like other girls." He cleared his throat awkwardly.

They made chitchat until they reached Strong Bad's house. Homestar's stopped at the walkway, arms behind his back shyly. "I really had fun tonight. I was ...well, k-kinda hoping we could do this again sometime...?" he asked hopefully.

Strong Bad stopped beside him. "Definitely yes. How's your schedule looking tomorrow? I have the day off- we could grab lunch."

"Sounds awesome," he replied, brushing some of his hair behind his ears. "I'll meet you here tomorrow afternoon, then. For lunch." He paused and smirked. "Maybe I can kick your butt in Alien Head Squishers tomorrow, too, if you don't mind inviting me in."

"Oh, I can invite you in, but I'm pretty sure there will not be any Alien Head Squishers butt-kicking involved. Everybody knows that guys are better than girls at video games," Strong Bad smirked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Your confidence is cute, but unfounded. But if you're so sure, how about a little wager, hmm?" He tapped the ground with his foot. "If _I_ win, you have to make out with me. And if _you_ win, I'll ..." He sighed, pretending to be upset. "I'll have to make out with you. Deal?"

Okay, this chick was officially awesome. "Hmm, you strike a hard bargain but- deal." Strong Bad sealed their deal with a brief kiss. "See you tomorrow." He waved and pulled open his front door.

Homestar stood there in shock for a few seconds after he was gone, blinking. He brought a hand to his lips and broke out into a grin. "...h...he kissed me." He let out a goofy sigh, almost melting into a puddle right then and there. "He kissed me." He hugged himself, squealing a little before he practically skipped home. "He _kissed me!_"

That night his dreams took an interesting turn, very much resembling the plot of the movie that was now fresh in his mind, but Strong Bad had been swapped out for the main character- and Homestar was filling in for the female lead, apparently. Aside from that, however, there were no snide remarks or uncomfortable confrontations from dreamed-up imaginary Strong Bad. His brain seemed to be holding up its end of the whole kissing bargain, as it was entirely possible that the Gunkillers thing was just a random result of watching a movie before bed... right?

Well, maybe just the parts where they weren't making out.

Homestar yawned and rolled over tiredly, grinning in his half awake state. After a minute, he opened his eyes and pushed himself up, pausing to give his lipstick smeared pillow a curious look.

Oh, right. He was wearing lipstick. He rubbed his mouth on the back of his hand. And mascara. And perfume.

He sighed, giggling. All totally worth it. He crashed back down on the bed, hugging his pillow to his chest. And best of all, his dream last night was PG-13, at best. Maybe the horribly awkward dreams really were just pent up sexual frustration. Though ... the idea of actually having sex with Strong Bad still weirded him out. Nevermind that he hadn't done every dirty, nasty, filthy thing he could think of with him in his dreams over the past week or so. The idea was still ... odd.

Not unwanted, he realized hesitantly. Just odd. He sat up and rested his chin on his palms. "Not until I tell him I'm Hayley," he decided firmly. He shook his head and made an X with his arms. "Nothing below the belt until I'm done lying to him."

"Yeah well you aren't done yet. Get out of bed, dorkwad. You have shopping to do today, remember?" It seemed that imaginary Strong Bad hadn't quite gone away afterall.

Homestar blinked, face flushing. "I thought you said you'd go away once I kissed him!"

"I said I'd make the dreams stop. You still totally need me," the voice replied.

He pouted. "Says you. Strong Bad's totally into me." He clutched the pillow tighter, blushing and grinning like an idiot. "He kissed me."

"He kissed Hayley," the voice corrected. "Technically, that wasn't your kiss."

He blinked at that. "... why do you have to ruin everything for me?" he sighed, shoulders slumping. "Besides, I don't wanna go shopping. I hate that store, it's so expensive. I really don't want a closet full of women's clothing, yanno."

"Look at it this way- once you're done with all this you'll make some impoverished, homeless drag queen really happy when you get rid of 'em. Unless you decide you might need them later for messing around," the voice mused.

Homestar went beet red. "_Absolutely not!_"

"You never know~"

He buried his face in his pillow. "I'M POSITIVE," he muffled out.

"Well either way you have to go get another outfit. He's gonna get suspicious if you show up in the same thing you wore last night."

"Augh." He pulled the pillow away with a frown. "_Fine._ I'll go get another outfit." He furrowed his brow. "What the heck do you wear to lunch anyway...?" He shook his head and got up.

Four bus rides later, Homestar was standing outside Strong Bad's door again. He smoothed out his new skirt, a plain white pleated one with a star lined trim. Might as well start dropping the hint now, afterall. He fixed his hair and the reflection of the window by the door before ringing the bell.

Strong Bad was more prepared this time around when he answered the door. He'd gotten ready earlier just in case. "Sup, hot stuff." He didn't even give the skirt a second glance.

Homestar rubbed the back of his neck, blushing awkwardly. Thank god for Strong Bad that he was already head over heels for him, or else he'd have turned around at that greeting. "Not much since the last time you saw me," he grinned.

"Hehe... well, I haven't eaten since the last time I saw you, so how about we get a start on that lunch?" He stepped out and pulled the door closed just as Strong Sad was coming down the stairs to snoop.

He nodded and hopped down the steps. "Sounds great! Where to," he asked, turning around.

"I seriously could go for a shake right about now," Strong Bad replied. "Have you ever been to Marshmallow's Last Stand?"

Homestar snorted but tried to cover it up. "A-ah, y-yeah, I have," he said, paling slightly. Oh god, not there. Everyone knew him there. At least at a crummy pizza place and a dark movie theater there was no chance of being recognized. "Y-you sure you wanna go there...?"

"They have the best shakes, unless you know somewhere else..." Strong Bad glanced up at him. "What, did you get some bad food there once or something?"

"W-well, no..." he muttered, rubbing his arm nervously. "It's fine, I guess."

"I guess?" Strong Bad repeated. "That place is awesome. I go there like, all the time. If you've been there before I've probably seen you. I bet that's why I recognized you yesterday- I never forget a pretty face."

Homestar cleared his throat awkwardly. "Probably," he said quickly, turning his head away. He wasn't sure if he should be insulted or complimented.

"Trust me, it'll be good," Strong Bad reassured 'her'.

A short walk later, they arrived at the diner. They were busy with the lunch rush, which was lucky for Homestar, because it gave the staff little time to wonder about Strong Bad's date. They settled into a booth and Strong Bad ordered his shake, planning to start on that while he waited for his food.

Homestar tapped the table with his fingers nervously, face completely red as he glanced around. Everytime someone he recognized walked by he tried to casually hide his face by either looking away of covering it with his hand. With his free hand, he stirred his iced tea around.

Strong Bad stopped sucking down his shake long enough to raise an eyebrow at his booth mate. But before he could inquire about the strange behavior a voice interrupted.

"Hey, boys!" A man in a shabby green track suit wandered over to their booth, then blinked at Homestar. "Oh jeez, sorry dere, miss. Ya kinda looked like a guy from where I was standin'."

Strong Bad groaned. If there was one thing in the universe that could totally kill a date, it was his old, creepy gym teacher.

"Beat it, man. I'm a little busy right now." Strong Bad nodded across the table pointedly.

Homestar tensed up. _Dear god, no_. Anyone but Coach Z. Anyone. He quickly turned his head away, face totally flushed. "H-hi," he muttered, in his quietest voice possible.

"Oh, ya finally got yerself a woman, eh? I was berginning ta wonder thar," Coach Z flashed a grin at the 'woman' in question. "What's yer name?"

"This is Hayley. Hayley, this is... Coach Z... the creepiest track coach in all of Free Country," he added that last part in a mutter. "There, now that we're all introduced you can g-"

"Nice ta meetcha, Hayley," Coach Z remarked, holding out his hand. "Yanno, you got tha look of a gal that could use a personal trainer. I just happen ta have gotten inta that business myself." He winked at 'her.'

'Hayley' stared at his outstretched hand, but didn't take it. He was visibly mortified. "N-no thanks, my program works fine," he muttered, covering his face with his hand slightly.

Coach Z retracted the gesture and wiped his hands on his pants. "Ah well, if it doesn't work out fer ya, lemme know- fer either the trainin' or Strorng Bad, here. Yer not on one of them commercial-y prorgrams are ya? Becorz I can tell ya right now those things-"

"Coach..."

"Yah?"

"Could you maybe stop hitting on my girlfriend and get the crap out of here?" Strong Bad growled.

"Yanno, actually I woulda left hours ago but the manerger's threatenin' ta call the cops on me if I leave withort payin' fer my coffee," the coach said in a quieter voice.

Homestar dug into his purse and grabbed two crumpled dollar bills. "Pay. Go," he ordered, still refusing to look at him.

Coach Z took them happily, pausing to tilt his head and try to get a better look at Homestar's face. "Yanno I coulda sworn I'd seen ya somewhere-"

"Pay and get lost before I call the cops," Strong Bad snapped.

"Okay, okay, I'm goin'. Seeya, Strorng Bad. Nice ter meet ya, Hayley," Coach Z waved dejectedly before retreating back to the counter.

Homestar groaned and buried his face in his arms. "Oh my god."

Strong Bad sighed, disgruntled. "Yeah. He has that effect on people."

After a second he lifted his head up, blinking after he realized something. "Girlfriend?" he repeated.

Strong Bad rubbed the back of his neck, thankful he was wearing a mask. "Well, seeing as this is our second date, I just kinda figured..." He cleared his throat.

"N-no, it's fine," he insisted, grinning excitedly. "I'm glad! I really l-like you Strong Bad." Understatement of the year. He brushed some of his hair behind his ear and smiled. "I was going to ask you but I was sure you'd say no."

Strong Bad was visibly relieved. "Why the crap would you think that? Last night was awesome. Today's already been-" he glanced at where Coach Z had been a minute ago. "Well okay, today didn't get off to the best start ever, but still. I feel like we really clicked."

He giggled and blushed. "I'm glad. I've never felt this way about a guy before." He looked away, going redder. Ain't that the truth. "You're really amazing," he sighed, twirling his hair with his fingers. His eyes flicked towards him and he giggled again. "I'm just ... really glad to hear you say that." Chemistry, huh? A skirt and some make-up didn't fake chemistry. Maybe he had an actual chance with Strong Bad after all.

"Well, amazing is a given," Strong Bad agreed proudly. "You're not bad yourself, though. We've got a lot in common."

Homestar smirked and rubbed the back of his neck. "More than you think," he muttered.

Their food arrived a moment later and the rest of lunch went much more smoothly. Well, aside from Homestar still flinching occasionally away from the wandering eyes of anyone that might recognize him.

Luckily for him, Strong Bad wasn't that slow of an eater and they were on their way back to the house in no time.

Strong Bad had already set up the TV in the basement for their afternoon of video games. Having never taken Hayley on a tour of the house before, he showed 'her' around a bit before they headed downstairs.

"This is it." He motioned to the patched up couch and old TV currently hooked up to the even older video game system. "I hang out down here a lot... it's a nice escape from my whiny brother and most other annoyances. The dryer gets kind of loud but other than that, it's cool."

Homestar shook his head. Oh man, Strong Bad was so adorable sometimes it practically killed him. "Very exciting," he mused sarcastically. "Now are you ready to lose or what?"

Strong Bad folded his arms and smirked. "You wish. I don't lose bets to girls. Not even cool, video game playing ones."

"I told you not to treat me like a girl," he pointed out, raising an annoyed eyebrow.

Strong Bad rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm going to win. My name is at the top of the high score list." Right below Homestar's scores, anyway. He really needed to figure out how to reset that thing.

"Very impressive," he mused, clearly unimpressed.

They started up a few minutes later, Homestar immediately taking the lead. Within moments his score was double what Strong Bad's was.

"I think I got stuck with the slow controller," Strong Bad muttered, mildly annoyed at his very second place status. Apparently the only problem with dating someone who also liked video games was that they might just be better than you at them.

He glanced over at Hayley as 'she' mashed away at the buttons with speedy ease. Man, this chick could give even Homestar a run for his money.

The death noise sounded and he looked up. Aliens were hopping up and down on his pixelated corpse on screen. "Aw, no way. I can't be dead already!"

"Looks like it. Two out of three?" he offered, shaking his controller at him. He leaned in closed and smirked. "I'll even trade controllers with ya, if you really think that's the problem."

"Gimme that thing," Strong Bad huffed, but he wasn't truly upset about losing. Okay, maybe a little. But if he had to lose to someone, he was sort of all right with it being 'her'.

It became clear that Strong Bad needed to get used to it quickly. Two of three became three out of five, and then five out of eight, and then nine out of seventeen. Homestar sighed, bored. This game was too easy. He hardly had to do much more than mash a few buttons.

Strong Bad sat back defeatedly as the disappointing end of game nine of seventeen arrived. "All right, I give." He motioned to the TV. "How do you do that? Are you using some kind of cheat? ...that I haven't tried yet?"

He blinked down at the controller. "I don't cheat. I just ... play?" He shrugged. "It's fun. I get good at things I think are fun."

Strong Bad raised an eyebrow. Making out was fun... "Well, I guess this means I lost the bet," he sighed, tossing his controller onto the floor. "But for the record, I would have totally beat you eventually if my fingers hadn't started cramping up around game 8. I was working up to it."

"Hmm," he mused, smirking. "I bet they did." He looked down at his hands, suddenly growing nervous. "Sooo... now that you lost ...?" He glanced at him hopefully.

Strong Bad slid over, bringing his face close to 'hers'. "Guess we have to make out now," he chuckled. He brushed some hair aside and leaned in to kiss him.

Homestar's heart jumped into his throat and he responded to the kiss eagerly, positive that he was going to melt. Or at least his legs were. They _definitely_ turned into jelly, at the very least. After a moment he ran a hand up Strong Bad's thigh before pulling it away, realizing that it wasn't a very feminine action. Whoops. When into guy-mode there for a second.

Thankfully, Strong Bad was involved enough to not be thinking about the masculinity of his date's moves. He ran a hand through Homestar's hair and pulled him down towards him a bit more. The fact remained that he was a good deal shorter than Homestar.

Whatever he'd hoped for from 'Hayley', he was right... 'she' was really enjoyable to make out with.

Homestar chalked this up as his new best date ever, taking the title from ... well, last night. Making out with Strong Bad was pretty freakin' awesome as far as he was concerned. After a minute or two, the lack of air forced him to turn his head to the side, effectively breaking the kiss. He giggled and buried his head against Strong Bad's shoulder. He hugged him and sighed, content. "You really are amazing," he murmured, smiling to himself.

Strong Bad wrapped his arm around him, welcoming the the affection. "Thanks," he smiled. Oh man, this had to be it; that moment people referred to as 'it', when life just _rocked_. He had finally found himself the perfect girlfriend... and she thought he was amazing. "You, too."

He giggled at that before he lifted his head up and kissed him again.

After a few more hours of on-again, off-again making out and video game playing, Homestar decided it was time to head home. "I had a great time. I'll give you a call this week, okay?"

"Sounds good." Strong Bad blinked. "Oh, crap, I don't think I've even given you my number yet."

Homestar turned around, having already started to leave. "Oh! ... uh, right. That'd be kinda necessary." He forgot to have 'Hayley' ask for it. Woulda been ... pretty weird to just know it.

"Here..." He grabbed the pen from the other day and looked around for something to write on. "You got any paper in that purse?"

He blinked down at it. "Uh." He peeked inside the mostly-empty purse. "No. Here." He held out his wrist. "You can write it on my arm."

"Just don't take a shower until you get it copied down," Strong Bad chuckled, penning down his phone number. When he was done, he gave him one last quick kiss. "All set."

Homestar returned the kiss. "Thanks. I'll call you later," he grinned, turning on his heel. He gave him a little wave before heading down the street.

It turned out, that shower wasn't going to be an issue. An hour later Homestar was still scrubbing, trying to get the ink to come off. "You're not a friggen tattoo!" he huffed, glaring at the still legible numbers. He pouted. "Ah crap this isn't good."

"Wow, man, he really tagged you," Strong Bad's voice noted from somewhere in his mind. "Better stick to long sleeves at work for a while. Brilliant idea, by the way. 'Write it on my arm'," the voice snickered.

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" he snapped. "Tell him not to worry, I already have it? Augh. Why'd he have to go and use a permanent marker...?"

"Because it was there. At least you can use it as proof for revealing your identity to him down the road, man. Kinda hard to fake his own handwriting... and from the looks of it, that's not coming off anytime this year."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "But what if he sees it _before_ I tell him? Then I look like a liar who just wanted to get in his pants."

"That assumption wouldn't be totally wrong, you know," the voice noted. "But yeah ... stock up on the long sleeve shirts and jackets. That's all I got. I think you might need like... laser surgery to get that off."

He blushed a bit and glared at his arm. "I don't just want in his pants," he muttered. "There's a lot more to it than that. I really like him, you know." He tapped the side of his. "Considering you live up there, you should be aware of that."

"Oh, I am. But you also want in his pants," the voice replied smugly. "That goes along with the liking bit."

The blush got worse. "Y-yeah, well ... shut up."

He squirmed slightly, quiet for a minute. "Remember how you said you'd stop the dreams when I kissed him?"

"Yeahhh..."

He tapped his fingers together, blushing furiously. "...I... kinda changed my mind...?"

"Oh, really?" the voice chuckled. "I don't know man, I'm not sure if I'm in the mood to make that stuff up for you anymore..."

He ducked his head down and swallowed. "...please?"

"Oh, all right. You're such a pain in the imagination."

He frowned. "You seemed to like making them up before," he reminded him sharply. "Besides, until I get Strong Bad to like the real me it's all I got. I'm still horny all the friggen time, thanks to you."

"See this is what I like about being in your head- you can't blame anything on me without it somehow being your own fault," the voice countered smugly.

He huffed angrily. "I must be some sort of masochist to imagine you up," he muttered. He shook his head dismissively. "But pick on me as much as you want. As long as up there I'm still getting laid, it's all good. I haven't had sex in almost two weeks, man. I don't know how much longer I can go."

"You'll survive. Marzipan's cut you off for longer than that before... and you didn't even have me around to help you then."

"No, back then I had porn that actually turned me on. Now I can't get off without thin...thinking about..." He blushed and shook his head. "... Strong Bad," he muttered weakly. He slapped his forehead. "I think I'm done talking about this now. Especially with myself."

"Yeah, you're a proper head case. That's not news," the voice replied. "Suit yourself... " He got the sense that the imaginary Strong Bad had left, for all purposes. At least for now.

He glanced at his arm and groaned, rolling his eyes. Work tomorrow was going to be hell.


	4. Chapter 4

Homestar returned to work the next day for the first time in a week. He pulled at his sweater, the stubborn phone number still refusing to come off. Oh well. The imaginary Strong Bad had a point- when the time came, it'd be decent enough proof. He sat at his desk and boredly started on his work. He was half hoping that he'd have leftover things to do from his impromptu break, but it appeared that everything was taken care of. He had a clean slate, and it bored the hell out of him.

He wasn't the only bored one. Strong Bad had taken to sharpening pencils and flipping them up at the ceiling, attempting to get them to stick. The difference was, he actually had some work to do. His mind though kept wandering back to Hayley and when he'd get that phone call.

When Pom Pom came by, he scrambled to sit up in his chair and look busy. His boss merely rolled his eyes and kept walking, stopping at Homestar's cubicle.

"Hey, good to see you back. How are you feeling?"

"Hmm?" He turned around and grinned up at him. "Much better, thanks."

"You know, this time I actually believe you. You look a lot better," Pom Pom grinned. "Hey, do you think you can pick up a side project for me? Certain people have been slacking lately and we're a little behind on a spreadsheet. One from... last quarter."

"Awesome, I've been looking for something to do," he sighed, getting up. "I'll just need to read up on some things. There's the files from the last quarter in your office, right?"

"Yep," Pom Pom nodded. "I'm actually on my way out for lunch, but you can help yourself to them. Second filing cabinet to the left of my desk."

"Ooh, wait up for me, I'm freakin' starving," he said quickly. "Be right back." He passed by Strong Bad on his way to the office and flashed him a grin. "Hey Strong Bad," he waved. It was about a million times easier dealing with him on a day-to-day basis thanks to Hayley. He was grateful for her, even if she was ... well, a lie.

"Get lost, dork, I'm working." Strong Bad waved him off, preparing to sharpen another pencil.

He rolled his eyes. "Uh huh," he muttered, dashing into the office. He found the files within a few moments and dashed back to join Pom Pom. "Ready to roll."

Pom Pom pulled on his driving sunglasses and they headed for the door. The nice thing about hanging around with Pom Pom was that he actually had a car. This meant getting to leave the office for lunch instead of dashing out to the diner next door and trying to get back within your time limit... or eating what was in the machines in the employee lounge.

"I'm glad you figured things out for yourself, buddy. I was really worried about you for a while," Pom Pom noted on the drive back. "So, were you able to get back together with Marzipan?"

Homestar blinked. "Ah, no. She called me last week and we talked but..." He trailed off a bit sadly. "We decided it was best if we're just friends, yanno?"

Pom Pom stared at him for a second. "Are you serious, man? You two have been dating for so long... you've always pulled through rough times before. This doesn't have to do with anything- well, you know." He cleared his throat. "You coming out of the closet or whatever...?"

"I'm not gay," he sighed angrily.

"Right, I'm sorry," Pom Pom didn't sound quite convinced but he changed the topic. "So now you're on your own again. You know what that means, huh?" He elbowed Homestar lightly. "You should start hanging out at the club on weekends again. It'll be like old times. It's a good way to meet people."

He looked away and tapped his fingers together. "...I didn't say I was single."

"Oh?" Pom Pom peered over his sunglasses at him. "What's she like?"

He hesitated. "Oh, you know..." He twirled his hand before muttering as quietly as possible, "...sh.. ... ...h...he's...nice."

Pom Pom rolled his eyes. "Homestar, you know I don't care at all if you're into dating guys so long as you're happy."

"I know," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just ...w...weird, is all. But I'm _really_ into him, so ..." He trailed off again. Can't tell him too much.

"Cool, I'm glad it worked out for you." Pom Pom parked the car and tucked his sunglasses in his pocket. He felt he shouldn't pry too much, anyway. "And hey, if all goes well, I want to meet this guy sometime. Maybe you can recruit him for the bowling team."

He snorted. "Uh, trust me. You don't want him on your team. Maybe on someone else's team..." he mused, chuckling.

"That bad, huh?" Pom Pom smiled and shook his head. "Ah well, I'm not completely above guerilla tactics. Bowling's a highly competitive sport."

Homestar laughed and followed him inside. "You'll meet him..." His eyes flicked towards Strong Bad as he walked past. "You'll meet him soon enough."

"I had better. Take care, man." With that, Pom Pom returned to his office.

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Strong Bad got several sentences typed and made a graph. He had also succeeded in embedding four pencils in the ceiling- all of them above Homestar's desk. As he'd discovered during his annoying co-worker's lunch excursion, the pencils didn't stay in the ceiling forever. His first success had come back and hit him in the head, giving him the idea in the first place.

So he whittled his time away, waiting for the trap to spring and trying to get as little done as possible.

Homestar was typing away when a pencil bapped him on the head. He blinked, confused. "...what the crap?" He looked around left and right for the source, confused. He eventually shrugged it off and got back to work, only to be hit again.

Strong Bad peered briefly over the wall of his cubicle and then ducked down again, snickering. Man, Homestar was dumb. If only he'd had time to get a dozen or so up there.

The third pencil fell, this one hitting the brim of his hat, helping Homestar identify the source. He looked up, eyes narrowed, and then glared at Strong Bad just as the last pencil fell. He caught this one before it hit his keyboard. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Not anymore. You're doing most of it," Strong Bad snorted.

He sighed and shook his head. He leaned against his palm, eyebrow raised. He liked Strong Bad better when he was polite and flirty, but he couldn't do much about that. "You still have the third quarter annual reports to type up, you know."

"I'll get to it when I get to it," Strong Bad replied flatly. "I'm sure if I wait long enough, Pom Pom will probably pass that off to his favorite employee, too."

"I'm not his favorite," he frowned. "I just _work hard_. Maybe you should do the same."

Strong Bad pretended to consider it briefly. "No way, I wouldn't want to end up like you. I don't do the whole 'teacher's pet' thing."

"I am not a teacher's pet," he huffed.

"Uh huh. The record begs to differ. Miss Nelson in seventh grade loved you so much she probably would have married you if it wasn't illegal," Strong Bad rolled his eyes.

He rolled his eyes. "She didn't like you because you regularly tried killing her guinea pig."

He pointed at him angrily. "Hey, I wasn't trying to kill that thing. Feeding it crayons would not have killed it. But I'll admit, letting it loose in the girl's locker room might have resulted in serious injury... but probably not death."

He smirked. "That was actually pretty funny," he chuckled. "You were such a bad kid, man."

"Four hundred and fifty two," Strong Bad replied with a bit of a proud smirk. "That's how many stripes there were on the wallpaper in the principal's office. I counted them enough times while having to listen to all those dumb lectures. But I'd way rather have been a bad kid than a dumb teacher's pet."

He shook his head, amused. "You are so freakin' cute," he chuckled, getting back to work.

Strong Bad frowned and threw an eraser at his head. "I said cut it out with the creepiness, man. Ugh." With that, he sat back down and got back to... mostly not working.

Homestar rubbed the side of his head. "Well, you are..." he muttered, blushing a bit. Frick. He had to stop making slips like that. It was really really hard not to flirt with him, though, especially now that he and 'Hayley' were dating.

He got back to work quietly, wrapping up half of his side project before five o'clock rolled around.

Strong Bad had eventually decided to try to finish his report. He glared at the few pages he'd written up on his screen. He could be at home right now... just in case Hayley called. But no. This report was inhibiting his ability to leave. It was supposed to be done tomorrow, technically. He sighed in frustration, leaning his elbow against the desk- and accidentally bumping several keys in the process. His screen went blue with an error message.  
"No, don't do that," Strong Bad ordered. "You are not allowed to do that when I haven't saved." He hit the side of the monitor, but obviously to no use. "Ah, crap," he muttered, smacking his head to the desk.

Homestar blinked as he was walking past him. "Again?" he muttered. "You know, forcing your computer to glitch out all the time isn't really a good way to avoid working."

"I didn't do it on purpose this time, moron," Strong Bad growled, hitting the escape key repeatedly in the hopes of not having to restart. "There needs to be a system recovery... button thing somewhere." He tried a few other key combinations, but the screen stubbornly stayed blue. It was so easy to get an error when he needed one, but to undo them was a different story.

"Here, lemme help," Homestar sighed, rolling his eyes. He leaned over him and started typing. "If you hadn't slept through the last meeting, you'd know how to do this."

"I knew how to do it already, I just forgot," he snorted. "Personal space- you mind?"

"You want to keep this file?" Homestar asked, annoyed.

"That depends on how long I have to have you hovering over me. I would've figured it out eventually."

Homestar rolled his eyes and kept typing. "I'm almost done, relax. I'm not going to molest you, you know," he smirked. A few more keystrokes and Strong Bad's screen returned to normal. "There. All done."

"Finally." He pushed Homestar away and immediately saved his work. "And for the record you better not molest me. My girlfriend would so kick your butt, right after I got done kicking it."

"Oh?" He raised a cautious eyebrow. "G-girlfriend, huh? You're really into her?"

"Oh yeah. So don't even get your twisted hopes up," Strong Bad replied. "You know, last night she totally beat one of your high scores on my game, too. She's pretty much awesome at everything and thinks I'm amazing."

He giggled and put his arms behind his back. "I'm happy for you. I started seeing someone, too, so you can relax. My 'twisted' hopes aren't up at all," he snorted.

"Yeah you and Marzi always get back together," Strong Bad rolled his eyes. Seemed like they broke up at least once a month. "Whatever. Marzi can have you. Especially if it keeps you from getting all weird around me like last week."

"If I was back with Marzipan, I woulda said Marzipan," he said, chuckling. "I met someone new. He's ... amazing." He smirked.

Strong Bad raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to his computer screen. "I should've seen that coming from space."

He huffed and glared at him. He wasn't exactly getting the shocked, 'oh-my-god-seriously?' reactions from people that he had been hoping for. "I'm just trying something out," he muttered angrily. "I'm not gay, I'm just open-minded."

"That's what gay people say right before they come out of the closet," Strong Bad snorted.

"I'm not gay," he insisted stubbornly. "I"ve only ever liked on... two guys ever and now all of a sudden people think I'm queer. Jeez." he crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. He even called to tell his mom, and she didn't seem the least bit surprised. This was so frustrating.

"So what I hear you saying is that's two more guy crushes than any straight person. And it's not 'all of a sudden.' Who seriously wears tight jeans and a dorky hat all the time, man? Think about it."

He reached for his hat protectively. "How does my hat make me gay?"

"It has a propeller on it?" Strong Bad offered with a smirk.

"Says the guy in a wrestling mask, biker gloves and way tighter pants than mine," he huffed. "Propeller hats aren't gay."

Strong Bad growled. "I've got a girlfriend, whereas you have some... fairy boy who is probably just as gay as you to want to date you. I think that should speak for itself."

He laughed and clapped his hand over his mouth to stop it. "U-u-uh-huh, right. F-fairy boy," he managed, biting his lip. Imagining Strong Bad as a totally femme, stereotypically gay man was a mental image that was too hysterical to bear. "Well, I hope you and ... your ne...new girlfriend..." He paused to let out another snicker. "H-have fun. I gotta get going. See ya, Strong Bad."

"Yeah, bye. And I will!" He huffed and turned back to his computer again, making a mental note to save more often as he went this time. "Black pants are allowed to be tight," he muttered to himself.

Homestar hopped down the front steps and whipped out the cheap, pay-by-minute phone he picked up to be 'Hayley's phone. He cleared his throat as he walked before dialing the only number listed- Strong Bad's.

The recipient of the call jumped at the sound of his cell in the now nearly empty office. He fumbled for it and flipped it open hastily. The fact that the caller ID showed up as unknown was hopeful. "Hello?"

He smirked. "Hey," he said casually, using his Hayley voice. he glanced down at his nails as he walked. "What are you doing tonight?"

Strong Bad glanced at the half finished quarter report on his screen before leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up. "Oh, uh... nothing important."

"Mmm. You sure?" He pulled out his _real_ cellphone to check his messages while he was bored. "Because I was thinking me, you and the Last Lament of Sally tonight at 8."

_The making-out movie!_ "Sure! You wanna meet up right at the theater?"

"Yuh-huh." He paused and smirked. "Oh, and honey? Don't wear those black pants again. They make you look like such a fag. See ya~!" He snapped his phone shut and laughed. That'll show him for making fun of his hat.

Strong Bad blinked, still holding the cell to his ear. "...what." His face went very hot and he stuffed his cell in his pocket. These were his favorite pants. What the crap did that stupid girl know? Obviously _nothing_.

'Hayley' showed up at the theater by quarter to 8, complete with a new outfit, an even shorter skirt this time. He was pretty sure he bought the longest one they had the first time, but oh well. The thigh high socks helped, slightly. He sighed and leaned against the wall and as soon as he spotted the familiar red of Strong Bad's mask he pretended not to notice him and stretched, lifting his leg up to pose against the wall in more feminine and show-offy manner.

Which Strong Bad noticed immediately, and didn't even bother pretending not to. "Wow, you look... nice tonight, Hayley," he noted with a grin as he walked over.

Homestar giggling and looked away. If by 'nice' he meant 'slutty', then sure. Man, Strong Bad was easy to please. "Thanks. You too. See you took my advice," he mused, wiggling his fingers at his pants. "Not that I don't love your ass, but _come on_, who really wears pants that tight?" He made a dismissive 'pfft' sound.

Strong Bad forced a laugh, jamming his hands in his pockets. "Hehe yeah... only rock stars and cool people." He cleared his throat. That had come out kind of bitter. "So anyway, I guess we should get tickets so all the good seats aren't taken."

He smirked. "I'm not looking for good seats. I'm looking for terrible, back of the darkest part of the theater ones," he giggled, blushing a bit. He held out his hand to him. "Come on."

"Now those are exactly the kind of good seats I'm talking about." Strong Bad took 'her' hand and followed eagerly.

After pretending to pay attention to Sally's many laments for a few minutes so that no stragglers would catch them, the date went as both of them expected. Homestar had to pull Strong Bad's hands away from his thigh once or twice- it wasn't that he minded it there, it was just that he was getting dangerously up the already miniscule article of clothing. The last thing he needed was Strong Bad finding out he wasn't a girl in a hands-on manner.

Besides, he reasoned- he promised he wouldn't do anything until he told Strong Bad he was Hayley. So despite the overpowering desire to pull Strong Bad's not-as-tight pants down and try out what he and dream-him had been doing for the past two weeks with slutty enthusiasm, he managed to keep his hands to himself. Plus, going down on someone in the theater on the third date? Probably the most whoreish thing he could think of. Marzipan waited until they were at _least_ nine dates in.

The lights brightened and he pulled away from Strong Bad slightly. "Aw, crap. I wanted to know what her last lament was," he pouted.

"Guess we'll just have to come back sometime... " Strong Bad mused.

Homestar giggled. "It's a date then," he said, standing up. He smoothed out his skirt. "It's a bit late. Want me to walk you home?"

Strong Bad started to try to turn the offer around, but then stopped himself. Right- no treating her too girly. They'd been through the walking home thing. "Sounds good to me."

He had already started down the aisle and looked over his shoulder at him expectantly. "Well, hurry up, then," he ordered.

The walk home was rather uneventful, and he stopped at the front steps. He grinned at him. "Call me if you wanna hang out, okay?"

"You can count on it," Strong Bad grinned back. "I'll need your phone number, though. It came up as 'unknown' on my caller ID."

"Oh, uh..." He shrugged. "I don't have any paper. How about I just call you?"

"No, it's no problem," Strong Bad insisted. "I gotta add you to my phone sometime. If you got a pen you can just write it on my hand."

"Hmm. Okay, take off your glove," he said, pointing after he pulled out a pink sharpie marker. He took his hand and scribbled the number on ... followed by a star. "There." He leaned close and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Well, see ya!" He turned and left, giving Strong Bad a little wave over his shoulder.

Strong Bad waved back, too thrilled to have finally gotten Hayley's phone number to worry about having to wash it off later. "Night, Hayley." He pulled out his phone as he went up the front steps and started adding the number to his contact list.

'Hayley' practically dashed home- all that touching kissing and mild groping left him horny as hell. It was hard focusing much on the boring chitchat post date because of this fact.

He got home, quickly remedied that problem and crashed on his bed with a sigh. He giggled and hugged his pillow. As much fun as Strong Bad was on their dates, he had to admit that hearing Strong Bad talk about how crazy he was about his new girlfriend was _totally_ the best part. "He even brags about me."

"Not you- _Hayley_." What was it with his head voice liking to pop in and ruin the moment all the time? "And my guess is he'll be bragging a little less tomorrow when he finds out that pink marker is permanent."

He smirked. "It was only fair."

The voice chuckled. "As an official imaginary representation of him, I am bound by my existence to disagree. But I _am_ impressed at your ability to exact revenge in a cleverly ironic manner... I guess. You're getting makeup on that pillow again, by the way."

He pulled it away, annoyed. "Augh. Not again, I just washed this." He flipped it over and headed for the bathroom to wipe his make-up off. He figured he'd brush his teeth while he was there. After he spit into the sink, he glanced at his reflection. "When do you think I should tell him?"

"You need to do it before the weekend. And you'd better not wait much longer, especially if you want to be the one delivering the news. You guys are off to a good start. Each date you push it, you risk him finding out before you can tell him."

"Before the weekend?" he repeated, frowning. "...that doesn't give him a whole lot of time to fall for me."

"Look at it this way, Homestar- do you remember when you broke his 8 track player and didn't tell him for a month? Remember how pissed off he was when he found out you'd been lying about it? This is a little like that, but... times a billion. Do not draw it out any longer than you have to, man," the voice explained. "You totally don't need any more time than that anyhow, he's way into you even now."

He sighed. "You're right," he muttered. "I'll tell him this weekend. We're probably going out Friday, since he has off Saturday." He started undoing his hair. "Hope you know what you're talking about."

Friday came, and just as expect Strong Bad had called to arrange them to hang out in his basement. Homestar rolled his eyes. Strong Mad's usual play date night with The Cheat, and Strong Sad's poetry club. The house to themselves. Strong Bad was such a pervert.

But ... a fun one. Homestar looked himself over in the window by Strong Bad's door. He'd decided against going in as Hayley- he was starting to hate her for getting all of Strong Bad's attention. Still, he kept her phone in his pocket just in case Strong Bad needed further proof.

He mussed up his hair and rang the bell nervously. "You better be right about this," he warned the ever-present voice in his head.

His head voice didn't get the chance to respond, as the real Strong Bad yanked the door open. "Hey th-" He blinked at Homestar, expression switching to a glare of annoyance. "Agh, what the crap are you doing here at this time of night? Shoo! Whatever you want, the answer is no."

Homestar grinned weakly. "I need to talk to you."

"Then talk to me tomorrow when I'm not waiting for my girlfriend to show up. Whatever it is, I guarantee it's not more important than my date." He started to close the door.

He grabbed the door and kept it open. "Trust me, it's important," he insisted.

"Uh, no. It's not," Strong Bad snorted, pushing harder against the door.

Homestar huffed angrily and with a little effort forced the door open enough so he could enter. "It is. It'll only take a second, I swear." He suddenly got very nervous. Sure, he'd practice what'd he say, but now that he was here his heart had dropped into his stomach.

"...it's about Hayley," he said slowly.

Strong Bad folded his arms over his chest. Dropping Hayley's name into the conversation had temporarily earned his attention. "What about her?"

"Well ... you know I'm crazy about you, right?" he asked tentatively.

"Unfortunately, yes. You've got thirty seconds to steer this back to being about Hayley before I'm throwing you out the door, man."

"I have a point," he insisted. He rubbed his arm and looked away. "W-well, sometimes people in love do stupid things like..."

He swallowed nervously. "...l...like dressing up like a uh. Like a girl and tricking people into g-going out with them."

Strong Bad tapped his fingers on his arm, apparently not getting the hint. "Ten seconds left."

He stared at him. Was he really that stupid? "I'm Hayley."

Strong Bad was very quiet for a moment. By all appearances, Homestar was being serious. That was ridiculous. Hayley was-

Hayley was what, a girl? She didn't like being treated like one. He shook his head, not liking where his train of thought was leading, but his mind didn't stop there. She was the same height, had the same color of hair, the same build, the same aggravating ability to beat him at video games, a mildly dorky personality, liked drinking beer with him and hanging out-

"No, y- no you're not."

Homestar frowned and pulled up his sleeve, where the smeared but still half legible phone number remained. "Strong Bad, I'm serious. I'm Hayley."

He grabbed his arm, pulling Homestar forward with it. Permanent ink. Not easily smeared off except after days of wearing it around. He should know after that stupid pink ink on his own arm. "That's... b-but I made out with- I d- what. Just... just what?" He slapped his forehead and kept staring at his own handwriting on Homestar's arm.

"I'm sorry I lied to you, but you wouldn't even give me a chance," he said. He tried tugging his arm back, but Strong Bad gripped it fairly firmly. Oh well. He frowned. "I really like you you, and you really like Hayley so ..." He trailed off. "..I...I mean, if you still wanna g-go out ... I doubt you do, but ... if you w-wanted to, we could."

Strong Bad kept his grip on Homestar's arm and his gaze locked in place, not responding right away. He was still _very_ hung up on the the whole making-out idea. _That had been Homestar?_

It took a while for the offer to sink in past his shock. When it finally did, he managed to glance up at his... well, ex-girlfriend again. Never had he felt so utterly stupid. "I... can't... date you. Y-you're a _guy_." He finally seemed to be getting his powers of speech back following the mental meltdown. "I don't... do that. No. That Hayley stuff? That was totally different. Totally and completely different." He looked away, falling silent for a second.

He cleared his throat. "'Sorry' does not even begin to cover this," he blurted with a dry, bitter laugh. "Nice try. I think you need to just... go home now."

Homestar pulled his arm back, not exactly surprised. "Right," he said quietly, not looking at him. He pulled his sleeve down and left without another word.

He walked home slowly- he was sure the inner Strong Bad was talking to him, but he was somehow tuning it out. As soon as he stepped through his front door, he closed it behind him and collapsed to the floor, sobbing hysterically.

"I told you!" he screamed after a minute. "I told you he wouldn't like me! You kept forcing me, supporting me when I never had a chance!" He wiped his eyes and choked on a sob. "I told you! I told you!"

"Give him some time," the voice pleaded. "You had a chance. You still might have one. Just give him some time to think."

"You saw the way he looked at me!" he shouted, trembling. He buried his face in his knees. "He hates me! I'll be lucky if I don't get a restraining order after this!" He hugged his knees tighter and hiccuped.

"Doubtful. He would have done it by now considering all the times you've let yourself into his house," the voice pointed out. It was weirdly calm in comparison to the rest of Homestar's brain. "Hang in there, man. It's not the end of the world."

"Not the end of the world?" he repeated angrily, hiccuping again. He got to his feet, fists clenched tightly.

"Not the end of the world? Strong Bad totally hates me, he thinks I'm some crossdressing stalker freak, and he's never ever gonna talk to me again, much less trust me! He hates me! I love him and he hates me!"

"It's a chance you had to take. Would you rather be back in the office, freaking out every time he walked by and driving yourself crazy?"

He slid down the wall and back to the floor. "W-well, no."

"Then suck it up. Take it easy and lay low for a bit until he has a chance to settle. That's all you can do right now anyway," the voice advised.

He sniffed and shakily got to his feet. "I guess," he muttered. He headed for his bed and promptly crashed down on it, not bothering to get changed or even take off his shoes. He buried his face in his pillow before he pulled away from it. "Hey, c...can you hold off on the dreams tonight?"

"I'm way ahead of you, man," it replied. "You go ahead and get some rest."

Homestar tried, and eventually sleep found him. Just as promised, he was completely dreamless that night. That didn't keep him from waking up periodically, clutching at his chest. He winced. The total look of disgust in Strong Bad's eyes ran through him like an arrow, slow and rough, with no hope of pulling it out alone. The voice in his head urged him to go back to sleep, and he eventually listened.

A few hours later, Strong Sad walked into his house, dropping his backpack by the door. He had his weekly poetry club meeting at Marzipan's house this week, and he was happy to report that the melonade was completely gone.

"Strong Bad?" he called up the stairs. No answer. He peaked into his bedroom- nope.

He hopped down the steps and spotted him on the couch. "Strong Bad?"

He was lying with his arm dangling off the edge, staring at the TV. It had been turned off until he heard Strong Sad's arrival. "Go away," he grunted.

Strong Sad gave him a curious look. "What's wrong? Hayley dump you?"

"Hah," he snorted. "I wish."

"I'm a little confused. You were bragging to mom last night on the phone that she was 'the one'. What the heck happened?" he asked, sitting on the other end of the couch.

"There is no Hayley, that's what happened," he muttered, boredly flipping channels with one finger. "There's no girlfriend, there's no 'the one', and there was no... date."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, frowning. Even if it wasn't making much sense, Strong Bad seemed pretty upset. "Want some good news?"

"You never have good news," he replied flatly. "Fine, what."

"I was at Marzi's tonight- all the melonade is gone," he reported cheerfully- well, cheerfully for Strong Sad. "Three full days before the full moon, too."

"Oh." He flipped another few channels. "Yeah that's good I guess."

"What's the matter with you?" he sighed. "I've never seen you like this before." He motioned to him. "People are going to mistake you for me, man. You're being a downer. What happened?"

Strong Bad huffed. As far as he was concerned, he had every right to be a downer right now if he felt like it. "Where do you want me to start? As of tonight's utter destruction of my life, it turns out all the best dates of said ruined life have been a lie, and my perfect girlfriend isn't a girlfriend. Or real. And... you know what, I changed my mind. I don't think I want to talk about this with you."

"What do you mean a lie?" he urged. "You're not giving me a whole lot of information here."

"It was all fake. I'm pretty sure all he wanted was to get close to me for his stupid... creepy fantasies," he muttered. At least, that's what he'd kept telling himself over the last hour and a half.

"He?" he repeated, blinking. "Who's he?"

Strong Bad blinked. "H- he? I didn't say he. I meant 'she'."

"No, you said he," Strong Sad said slowly. "...Hayley was a boy?"

Crap, he hadn't wanted that particular detail getting out. "...if you tell anyone else, I'm locking you in a crate and shipping you to Istanbul."

He put an X over his heart. "Hey, he was pretty convincing," he laughed nervously. "Oh well. But just think, Marzipan will be all over you soon enough."

Strong Bad frowned. Somehow, the prospect wasn't as appealing now that they had that shared experience of making out with Homestar. More like disturbing. Plus, Homestar was probably better than her anyw-

"Ugh, no." He rubbed his forehead, trying to exorcise the thought from his brain. "I think we need to call this thing off. I really- I... it's just weird."

"But ..." Strong Sad frowned. "Oh, fine. I'll give her the antidote." He sighed. "You know what's weird, though? She wasn't showing any of the signs of the potion when I saw her tonight. I guess it varies from person to person, but ..." He didn't like admitting that the potion might not have worked. "It's supposed to make the person like ... downright obsessed. But I mentioned you today and she seemed disgusted. Go figure. Maybe she's just one of those people that lies when they're interested..."

Strong Bad sighed, somewhat relieved. "No, she's been acting that same way for years. If she was obsessed, she should be friggen stalking me or... at the very least, calling me up to try t-... to ... date me." It was then that something clicked.

"Oh my god- I think your potion did work." He sat up suddenly and grabbed Strong Sad's shoulder. "You said there's an antidote, right?"

"Well, yeah. It's upstairs. I can give it to Marzipan next time I see her," he said, squirming out of his grasp.

Strong Bad rubbed the back of his neck. "It's, um... not for Marzipan. It's for Homestar."

Strong Sad didn't respond right away.

"Oooooh... so that's why he was being such a spazz around you," he mused, raising an eyebrow. "He must have drank the melonade, not Marzi. That explains a wh..." He paused, making some connections. "..._Homestar was Hayley?_"

Strong Bad cleared his throat awkwardly. "Er, yes. But I'm going to fix this," he insisted. "He just needs that antidote, and then we'll all be able to totally forget this ever happened. And never mention it again. Not even think about it."

"Agreed. We should get it to him right away," he grinned, obviously a bit giddy. "Oh man I'm just so glad the potion worked. I was beginning to doubt for a second there. It sucks that it was used on the wrong target, but it's really effective, right? He was totally in love with you, right? Oh man. That seller is totally getting a 'will buy again' from me."

Strong Bad glared at him. "'Buy again' over my dead body. I will not have any more obsessed, horny neighbors in drag chasing me around, man. Not fun." _Actually, it had all been pretty fun until he'd found out about it..._

Strong Sad rolled his eyes. "It's not Homestar's fault. It's the spell."

"Your spell that you were supposed to get to the right target," Strong Bad pointed out.

"He drank the melonade! How was I supposed to know he'd drink it?" he frowned.

"I don't know, that was your job! And it's Homestar, I mean come on. He's like a sugary drink addict." He smirked. "It's actually sorta funny. When he was Hayl..." he blinked and stopped himself, choking on his words a bit. "U-uh nevermind. Let's get this over with."

Strong Sad nodded and dashed upstairs for the antidote.

A little while later, there was a knock on Homestar's door. Homestar, having found it impossible to sleep anymore even though he desperately wanted to, shuffled to the door to answer it. Waiting for him was Strong Sad. He blinked.

"What do you want?" he asked snidely, already half closing the door. "I'm not in the mood."

"Wait," Strong Sad shifted uneasily. Naturally his brother would make him be the messenger in this. "I'm here to help you. Strong Bad told me what's been going on, and we figured out there's been... sort of a mix-up."

Homestar reddened slightly and tried closing the door. "Make fun of me tomorrow, I'm tired," he huffed.

Strong Sad blocked it with his foot. "I'm not here to make fun of you, Homestar. I'm here to give you an antidote for the love potion you accidentally drank a while ago. It's why you've been so obsessed with Strong Bad lately."

His eyes widened. "Love potion?" He blinked and looked away angrily. "This isn't a fairy tale, Strong Sad. There's no such thing."

"But there is!" He insisted, slightly insulted. "Many cultures have their own versions of aphrodesiacs, which are only a weak form of the real thing. Supposedly, a full-fledged love potion is strong enough to alter a person's mind. They can also go so far as to drive people to having hallucinations or mental breakdowns simply from trying to ignore it..."

Homestar looked away again. _He's talking about you, you know_, he thought to his imaginary tormentor.

"S-so ..." He hesitated slightly, opening the door a crack. "...all of this is ... it's _fake?_"

"Not... exactly. I'd think of it more as a spell-induced state," Strong Sad replied. "What I'm trying to say is it's not your fault you suddenly started obsessing over him. It's the potion."

He didn't respond for a few seconds. "And you can make it go away?"

"Well, considering the potion worked, there's a good chance the antidote will work as well. So yeah." He pulled a little red bottle out of his jacket and held it up. "Drink all of it and you should be back to normal in no time."

Homestar took it from him, inspecting it. He looked it over sadly.

To be free of these sudden overpowering feelings would be a blessing. He'd be able to get on with his life, maybe Marzipan would even take him back.

On the other hand, as far as he was concerned ... he loved Strong Bad. Sure, these feelings weren't generated in the standard manner, and he wasn't entirely fond of having them, but he still loved him. He gripped the bottle sadly. To just take them away as quickly as he got them seemed the easy way out. He'd done so _much_ to get Strong Bad to like him. It was such a waste.

"Thanks," he muttered quietly.

"No problem. Just make sure you drink it right away," Strong Sad advised as he turned to leave. "I'm not sure how long it takes to kick in."

"Uh huh," he nodded, watching him go. He closed he door and leaned against it, still staring at the shiny red bottle in his hand. He sighed.

"You're going to tell me not to take it, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

"I'm gonna tell you to do what you want," his imaginary advisor replied. "But whatever you choose, better make sure it's really what you want. That potion might've brought me here, man, but I'm still part of your brain. I'm not sabotaging ya. Well, I mean, not much, and only for the right reasons. I've been trying to help you be happy again."

He rolled the bottle from one hand to the other for a moment, brow furrowed in thought. He popped off the cap and sniffed at it- odorless. Probably tasteless. Wouldn't be a huge deal to just chug it right here, right now.

He popped the cap back on and frowned, sliding to the floor. "Happy, huh..." he mused quietly. "Happy would be nice."

"Think about what it is that makes you happy. Maybe that'll help you decide."

He rested his chin on his hand, quiet for a long time. What made him happy?

After a few minutes, he shakily got to his feet, and entered the bathroom, bottle in hand. When he exited a moment later, the bottle was empty and he rubbed his neck, sighing. "I hope I know what I'm doing."

He crashed back down on the couch and curled up to try and go back to sleep.

Strong Bad never imagined he'd be looking forward to working the following Monday. With the relieving news that the antidote had been delivered, he'd been able to unwind over the weekend. He was able to get back to his usual activities- gluing his whiny brother's sketchbook pages together, hanging out at Bubs's with The Cheat and Strong Mad, buying Strong Sad a new sketchbook after getting an angry call from his mom...

There was just one thing still bugging him. Despite the fact that Hayley had been a total lie, he couldn't get 'her' out of his head. It was especially hard to play video games without thinking back to them hanging out- and to an equal extent, making out- on the couch. He blocked the thoughts out as best as he could, but it was frustrating. Hayley had been... wonderful.

Several times he even wondered if maybe dating Homestar wouldn't have been so bad considering how much he'd cared about his alter ego- much to his swiftly following horror.

Whatever. It was over now. That potion had been taken care of once and for all. He hoped as he walked in the door of the office Monday morning that being forced to work around Homestar again and giving his imagination a proper reality check would help him get over it. He was really getting tired of all the weird dreams this situation had stirred up.

Unfortunately, Homestar's desk was empty upon his arrival- the pictures were gone, post-it notes missing, the computer off. Strong Sad brought over a box of his belongings and set them down at the desk.

"Hey, neighbor," he sighed, glancing at Strong Bad. "I got moved over here. Oh well, at least it's not right next to the bathrooms again..."

Strong Bad frowned. "Why did they move _you_ here? Where's Homestar?"

"He usually has off today, but I saw him in Pom Pom's office," he said, shrugging. "Dunno why he's here, though. Kinda weird to show up on your day off."

"Yeah... weird." Strong Bad resumed walking to his own cubicle and turned on his computer. That was as far as he got before curiosity got the better of him. He grabbed a folder so as not to arrive without an excuse and headed over to Pom Pom's office.

He walked in on a rather heated discussion.

"Homestar, you can't just ... move across the country!" Pom Pom snapped. "You're being unreasonable."

Homestar looked away dismissively, arms crossed over his chest. "I made up my mind. Mom and dad are gonna let me rent out the garage until I find my own place. Los Angeles is a fresh start." He snapped his head up when the door opened and he tensed up. "H-hey Strong Bad." He quickly looked the other way.

"Leave the files on my desk," Pom Pom ordered, still glaring at Homestar. "I'm not approving this transfer. This is stupid. You can't just leave."

"You're leaving?" Strong Bad blurted, skipping a greeting altogether. "Why?"

Homestar glanced over at him, smiling sadly. "It's complicated. I just need to do this."

"No you don't." Strong Bad tossed his folder onto Pom Pom's desk and folded his arms. "All of your friends are here, man. You've got your own place, you- you got a job."

"I've been trying to tell him that for the past ten minutes," Pom Pom muttered.

"There are other jobs, other houses and other friends," Homestar shrugged. He turned back to Pom Pom. "Look, if you won't transfer me, I'll just quit."

Pom Pom leaned against his desk and put his head in his hand. "Homestar..."

"Don't do it," Strong Bad snapped.

Pom Pom was quiet for a moment before grabbing a pen. "You're really set on this aren't you," he sighed angrily. He wasn't about to disadvantage his friend, even if he didn't agree with the choice. "If it doesn't work out over there, you can always transfer back. Remember that."

Strong Bad's eyes shot from the paper Pom Pom had started to fill out to Homestar. "But..." he searched desperately for a solid excuse. "You can't do this. Y- you still have all that stuff you borrowed from me at your place. And you owe me money, I know it!"

"I dropped off all your stuff on your doorstop this morning, and you actually owe _me_ money but don't sweat it," Homestar shrugged, leaning against the desk. "Thanks, Pom Pom. I'll call you when I land tonight."

"Jeezus, you've already booked a flight?" Strong Bad stood there in stunned silence as Pom Pom's pen scratched away at the transfer form. "This is because of me, isn't it," he said finally.

Homestar looked away. "Of course not. Don't be stupid. I just want a new start."

Strong Bad glared at him, fighting back the urge to say what was really on his mind. Instead, he blurted out his frustration. "Fine. I hope you're happy living in your parents garage like a friggen loser. Just when I thought you couldn't get any more lame you pull this crap." He stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him. He didn't stop at his cubicle. He kept going for the front door. This whole returning to work so he could solve his problems thing was not going at all how he'd planned. Fresh air. Maybe that'd help. Anything to get out of that office.

Strong Sad watched him go, confused. "What the...?"

"Thanks a million, Pom Pom," Homestar sighed, forcing a smile as they left his office. "I'll miss you, buddy. I'm gonna go home and finish packing the essentials, but I'll call you."

"You're leaving?" Strong Sad asked, stunned. Homestar nodded before he reached into his pocket. He tossed the small red bottle to him. "Thanks for this, by the way."

He caught it and looked at it, recognizing the thing immediately and tucking it away. "Oh. Yeah... I hope it worked for you."

He glanced over his shoulder briefly. "I guess we'll never know," he shrugged, and continued forward.

He hopped down the steps of the office and headed home with a sigh. He glanced down at his cellphone- his flight left at three. Plenty of time to pack up some clothes. He could have the rest of his junk sent over later, should the need arise.

And at 2:30 he was sitting in the airport, a single bag beside him as he watched the planes takeoff and land.

He frowned. This was the right thing do, wasn't it? Sure, he was leaving his friends, his house, his job. But he'd get to see his parents after not seeing them in almost five years. He'd get to move to a new place with new experiences.

And new people.

He sighed. Mom offered to set him up with their neighbor's son. Maybe he was cute. Though ... Homestar had a hard time deciding what would be 'cute' qualities in a guy beyond a wrestling mask and biker gloves.

He boredly flipped through his iPod tracklist, hoping the batteries would make it to California. Probably not, but that's what books were for, right? Right.

A shadow suddenly fell across the screen, blocking the glare from the plate glass windows overlooking the tarmac. The new arrival cleared his throat. Homestar blinked and glanced up, jumping to his feet. "S... Strong Bad, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Strong Bad rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, probably. Listen, I wanted to apologize about earlier. That totally wasn't what I meant."

"It sounded like that's what you meant," he muttered, not looking at him. "You should go. My plane's gonna start boarding any minute."

"No, I swear, man. I screwed up. It's just... I really don't want you to leave." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor for a moment. The next part had taken him all of the last few hours to come up with. Saying it out loud still seemed surreal. "I know this is really last-minute, but if you want a fresh start I figured maybe we could start over. Like, just us... without the crossdressing." He glanced up again. "When you were Hayley, you were perfect. I really l- ... liked you. And maybe it's not so totally different after all, because I think I still... do."

Homestar blinked a few times. This was ... the opposite of a fresh start without Strong Bad. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't ..." He pulled his hand away at the sound of the speakers announcing his flight. He glanced at the terminal. Now or never, Homestar. He looked back down at Strong Bad and winced. Dammit, he really knew how to tug at his heartstrings with those big green eyes of his.

"I ca..." Another call for his plane and he bit his lip, reaching down to grab his bag. "You liked Hayley," he stated softly. "An...and I hope you find someone who can be her for you, but I ... I can't. I gotta go." He turned away and hurriedly headed for the terminal.

Strong Bad stood rooted to the spot, watching him walk away in numb silence. He didn't want it to end like this. Not after spending all of that freaking time trying to get his thoughts together and throwing almost every notion of what he thought he knew about his own sexual alignment out the window. And now Homestar didn't even believe him. There had to be something he could say.

Somehow he got his legs to move and jogged after him. He caught him by the shoulder, stepping around to face him only to realize he was very much at a loss for words. _Oh, what the hell- I've got nothing to lose anyway._

He snagged Homestar's shirt and pulled him down into a kiss.

Homestar let out a muffled squeak in surprise, eyes widening. He jerked away and brought a hand to his mouth, cheeks going from pale to bright red in record time.

Strong Bad _kissed_ him. Not Hayley. Him. Homestar him. In public, even. He broke out into a grin. "Y-you're sure about this?" he asked, trying not to sound nervous. "Positive? Y...you really want this, right, and not because of her, but... you want me, right? Not her?"

Strong Bad rolled his eyes a bit, relieved that he'd finally gotten through. Apparently desperation did sometimes pay off. "Positive. That was all for the guy in the dorky hat and the too-tight pants." He flicked the brim of Homestar's hat and smirked.

Homestar grinned and threw his arms around him, burying his face into his shoulder. "Oh thank god! I th-thought for sure you hated me," he giggled. He pulled away slightly, looking equally as relieved and just a little bit ... shy. He averted his eyes and bit his lip. "I r-really care about you Strong Bad. I know there was the ...potion thing b-but..." He shifted nervously, face flushing. "...b...but I don't care. I really like you."

"Me too. I'm... I'm, uh, still kind of getting used to the idea of all this, but I know that much." He glanced over at the terminal briefly. "So, this means you're staying, right?"

He followed his gaze. "Hmm. On one condition."

Strong Bad raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You start wearing those black pants again. They made your ass look awesome," he giggled.

Strong Bad felt his face go red beneath his mask. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, you see? There's a reason they were my favorite."

"Mmhmm. They're my favorite, too," Homestar mused, putting an arm around his shoulder. "Well, I'm about to cash in these roundtrip tickets, so I got a bit of spare cash coming my way. Wanna keep playing hookey from work and catch a movie?"

"Sure." He looked up and smirked a bit. It wouldn't hurt to pick up about where they left off, would it? "We... uh, never did figure out what Sally's last lament was."

Homestar glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "No, we didn't. Hmm. I'm curious. Are you?"

"Very," Strong Bad grinned.

"Guess it's unanimous- Sally's last lament it is," he grinned in return, tilting his chin to give him a quick peck. "...assuming we pay any attention this time, that is."

"Yeah, right. We both know that's not gonna happen if you're as good at making out as you were last week," Strong Bad replied slyly.

Homestar blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh ... really? I was so nervous I thought I was gonna die," he sighed, shoulders slumping. He brought his hand over his heart. "I thought for sure you'd figure out I wasn't a girl."

"Yeah, that would have been bad," Strong Bad noted. "Lucky for you, you make a pretty convincing chick. And you managed to keep me away from your skirt. That's a commendable feat in itself, man."

He huffed and looked away. "...I wasn't that convincing..." he muttered, frowning.

"It's those legs," Strong Bad mused. "They acted as the ultimate distraction."

He glanced down at his legs, quiet for a few seconds. What had the voice said again? He swallowed and looked away, face completely red. "Y-y-you know, I s...still have my Hayley outfits i-i-if you ever w-wanted to m-m-m-m...mess around o-or something," he muttered, voice getting quiet. He scrunched his eyes closed and went tense. "...y...you know, if yo...you want."

Strong Bad blinked at him before shaking his head and chuckling. "I'll keep that in mind. But I think just for now, I'd like to keep things a little less confusing. And weird. I mean, being that you're the first guy I've ever actually thought about like... um, that." He paused. "Though it wouldn't kill you to wear shorts more often."

"Shorts?" He blinked. "Shorts. I can do shorts. Sure. Way better than a fricken skirt, anyway," he laughed, wrapping an arm around him and grinning at him. "That works for me. Now come on, let's go 'see' our movie." He kissed him on the cheek, grabbed his hand and pulled him along.


End file.
